Cracks In The Mirror
by Tari Silmarwen
Summary: "Through Imperial Eyes" AU. Thrawn gets to Ezra's cell first.
1. Caught

(A/N)- So this plot bunny has been tormenting me since "Through Imperial Eyes" aired and put me through all that needless stress. Apparently my brain decided it needed to make everything worse.

And so here we are.

 _Enjoy._

Disclaimer: Rebels and related Star Wars properties are owned by Disney.

* * *

 **Caught**

He had to hurry.

Lyste's stolen data cylinder burning a hole in his front pocket, Kallus beelined for the secure cell where they had taken Ezra. The quicker the boy was out of his hair and restored to his crew, the better. Kallus had no intention of leaving with the young rebel—and if the plan he'd set in motion panned out, he wouldn't have to. But it required careful speed and precision.

He was almost to the right corridor. If that junior officer hadn't waylaid him in the hall earlier he could have been here ten minutes ago. Every second counted in operations like this, and he sped to make up the lost time.

Kallus was in such a rush he breezed right past Chopper and AP-5, hovering just shy of the corner.

AP-5 raised a hand. "I wouldn't—" he tried to warn the agent.

Kallus rounded the corner and then immediately had to lunge back behind it, biting down an internal scream of frustration.

Thrawn and Pryce and three Stormtroopers were right outside Ezra's cell.

 _No no no!_ Kallus groaned. _Why is he here **now**?!_

If Thrawn made Ezra—and there was no way he wouldn't—it was all over. He'd be exposed. Unless he managed some very clever deflection, came up with some kind of explanation or excuse for why he hadn't recognized and reported Bridger's presence.

They were already opening up the cell. He had no time to think up a plan for distracting them. What he wouldn't give for one of Sabine Wren's explosive devices!

"What the—" the foremost trooper exclaimed.

Kallus peered closer, morbidly interested. Had the boy already escaped?

But Pryce had her blaster out now and was leaning into the doorway, checking the corners. Kallus saw her jerk it up and fire a stun bolt.

He heard a yelp from Ezra and then a loud, painful-sounding _CRUNCH!_ as the boy dropped, presumably from the ceiling. Kallus grimaced at the impact, which shook the walls even where he stood.

Two of the troopers moved into the cell, as Thrawn gave an approving nod to Pryce.

"Excellent instincts, Governor, " he complimented. "A paltry trick like that might have fooled a lesser officer."

"Thank you, Grand Admiral," said Pryce, beaming at his praise. Her voice and expression took on its usual ice as she turned. "Now, let's see about our shuttle thief."

He couldn't watch this. He wanted to run, to flee the scene. But his feet wouldn't obey. They stayed rooted, the rest of him transfixed in mute horror. Kallus could do nothing _but_ watch as the two troopers dragged Ezra up the stairs to present him to Thrawn. He hung limp in their hands, unconscious from the stun blast.

Thrawn stirred in interest, reaching down to grab Ezra's chin and turn his cheek, studying the distinctive twin scars intently.

"Well, well..." he said, red eyes lighting up. "This _is_ a turn of events..."

"The Bridger child!" Pryce hissed, her hands clenching. "What is he doing here?!"

Kallus moaned softly, palming his face in his hands. _No no no **no**_. This was _exactly_ why he hadn't wanted them to extract him!

"This will require my personal attention," he heard Thrawn saying. Kallus looked up from his hands to see the Grand Admiral calmly gesturing to his troopers. "Bring him," he ordered.

They followed after the admiral as he turned to go, carrying Ezra between them. Kallus watched them disappear down the opposite end. He waited until they were out of earshot, before whipping around and slamming his fist into the wall with a primal scream.

The heretofore quiet Chopper let loose with a string of harsh beeps.

"It is _not_ my fault, _I_ was thinking of how to get the clearance codes!" AP-5 protested hotly. "We would never have been able to get off the ship even if we _had_ freed Bridger first!"

"That won't do us any good now!" Kallus snapped. "They know who he is, they'll be expecting a rescue!" He stopped, forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. Getting agitated wouldn't help Bridger. He needed to think.

He rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

"Who was on the retrieval team? Who was coming to get us?" he asked.

Chopper responded promptly with a series of warbles.

"Contact them. Tell Jarrus and Commander Rex to divert course, they are _not_ to retrieve us," Kallus emphasized. "They are not to exit hyperspace until I've come up with a plan."

"What plan would that be?" asked AP-5 with withering cynicism.

"I don't know!" Kallus said, throwing up his hands as he headed back the way he'd come. "I'll improvise!"

"No wonder you defected to the Rebellion," AP-5 snarked at his receding back. "You fit right in. They never have a concrete plan either."

Kallus ignored the remark. If he encountered that junior offer that had held him up he was just going to _strangle_ him.

It was time to make himself very scarce.

-SWR-

Ezra's head was still throbbing from the stun blast, but he was clear-minded enough to think, _This is not good._

His breath had hitched when the cell door opened to reveal not a Stormtrooper guard, not even Kallus, but the Chiss Grand Admiral Thrawn himself, with Governor Pryce beside him. Ezra had held his breath, clinging to the ceiling, not daring to move a muscle. But Pryce had spotted him and shot him off the ceiling—which was probably why the whole back of his skull and spine felt bruised.

And now he was under armed guard being escorted to Thrawn's office.

 _Not good, **not** good!_

They passed through the doors into a narrow antechamber. It and the room beyond was set up like an art gallery, and Ezra spotted something familiar, displayed prominently on a pedestal to the right.

 _Hera's kalikori!_ He paused a little too long looking at it; the troopers gave a hard shove to his shoulder to push him forward. Ezra was sat down in a chair opposite the Grand Admiral's imposing-looking desk.

The doors hissed shut and latched behind them.

"Ezra Bridger."

Ezra gave an involuntary shiver. He hated the way his name sounded dropping from the man's lips. Like a cold, clinical slither. Thrawn came around, not to stand behind his desk but next to it, uncomfortably casual. The faint hint of an amused smile ghosted his mouth.

"We didn't get a chance to be formally introduced back on Ryloth. I am—"

"I know who you are," Ezra interrupted, glaring at the Chiss.

"Then we are on the same page," Thrawn replied without missing a beat or showing any sign of irritation at him. "Your reputation precedes you, _Ezra_." Once again, Ezra shuddered at how Thrawn said it. The Grand Admiral angled towards him, hands folded calmly behind his back. "Disguising yourself as a mercenary to infiltrate an Imperial starship was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Maybe it wasn't," Ezra shot back.

"Unlikely," Thrawn dismissed. "Your over-fondness for orange hues suggest you picked out the armor yourself."

 _He's guessing,_ thought Ezra, even as his pulse pricked up. _He can't really know that._

"You don't know anything about me," he said, brows dark and narrow over his eyes.

Thrawn said nothing, regarding him with an expressionless mask. Wordlessly, he stepped around his desk and pressed a series of keys on the console.

Dozens of holographic images sprang up, filling the air above the desk as Thrawn projected what looked like an entirely library of information for him to see.

Ezra's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. It was... everything. Transcripts of some of his parents' broadcasts. His forged cadet profile from the Imperial Academy. Incident reports from local garrisons on Lothal. Arrest records, from his time on the streets. Grainy still frames from security cameras showing some of the _Ghost_ 's past missions. Schematics for his tower. Even pictures of some of the graffiti he'd tagged on walls with Sabine. His whole life, exposed and laid bare for Imperial eyes.

There was a gleam of triumph in Thrawn's eerie red eyes. "I know _everything_ about you, my dear boy," he said calmly. He began to stalk back around the desk, slowly, like a circling predator. "Where you come from, who your parents were, where and how they died." Ezra flinched at that, biting down the swell of guilt that coursed through him. Thrawn seemed to take a perverse enjoyment in that, in how his words were affecting the young rebel. "How you grew up on the streets, scrounging to survive. How you fell in with a crew that became like a second family to you, even," he continued, "about your special connection to the energy field you call 'The Force'."

Thrawn closed in, coming to stand in front of Ezra.

"In fact, the _only_ thing I'm curious to know..." he said. He leaned in, looming over Ezra as he placed a hand on the corner of the chair, looking the boy right in the face. "...is just how long it will take—" His red eyes narrowed. "—to _break_ you."

Ezra swallowed nervously, pinned under Thrawn's probing stare and looking up at him in fear.

-SWR-

Ezra was hyperventilating, his breaths quick and shallow, watching wide-eyed as Pryce and another Imperial worked the restraints holding him to the interrogation table.

"Can't these restraints pull _any_ tighter?" Pryce complained, yanking on the metal band in aggravation.

"Sorry Governor," the Stormtrooper apologized. "We're doing our best. He's just a little too small for them."

"Well find a way to make do!" Pryce snapped, stepping back from the table. She turned an icily sweet smile on Ezra. "We don't want our guest leaving prematurely," she crooned.

If Ezra could have burned her with his glare, he would have. He was rapidly beginning to despise the woman, who'd seemed to take an almost gleeful satisfaction in hitting and slapping him when he'd refused to answer Thrawn's questions. His cheek still stung from one of her blows.

She assumed a calm, professional stance, smirking at the brief look he darted at the Stormtroopers pinning him down. "There's still time for you to avoid this," she told him. Her voice was deceptively soothing. "Tell us the location of the rebel base, and you'll be treated well," she offered.

 _Yeah right._

Ezra's glare remained firmly in place. "I'd rather kiss an inventory droid," he snarked.

"Suit yourself." Pryce reached back to take the datapad an aide handed her. She scrolled through the information, her eyes keening at something. "Ah, allergic to symoxin are we?" When she glanced back up at him her expression held an unsettling gleam of excitement. "That will be interesting to play with."

Ezra held back a scream. _How?!_ He hadn't even told the medics at Chopper Base yet, he just tried to avoid getting hurt enough to have to see them! He hadn't had a reaction since—

Thrawn must have gotten hold of his childhood medical records. Ezra squirmed uncomfortably. Was nothing of his private anymore? The thought of Thrawn's extensive file on him, of the Grand Admiral scrutinizing his intimate details, _studying him_ , like he was some kind of lab specimen...

Ezra felt sick. The technicians and guards buzzed around the room and his pulse started racing watching them. His lungs felt like they were tightening. Fear rippled through him.

Kanan had taught him how to resist mind probes, how to use the Force to block out pain, but this? he thought, as he took in the tray-fulls of needles and syringes, the electro prods and sharp metal instruments. This was on a whole different level.

They couldn't break him. He couldn't _let_ them. For everyone's sake—for the base, for Phoenix Squadron, for Kallus—he _had_ to keep his mouth shut.

 _Kallus_ , Ezra thought nervously, looking up towards the observation window, where Thrawn overlooked the room, reminding Ezra of a large, patient spider. _If you're really on our side, now would be a great time to prove it._

But he was beginning to think even Kallus couldn't get him out of this one.

-SWR-

Thrawn watched through the window as Pryce directed preparations.

The boy had held up under the initial round of questioning... remarkably well. He had feigned ignorance at first, tried to pretend he didn't know anything. When that had inevitably failed, he had assumed a defiant silence. All of Thrawn's probing questions—and a few nasty hits from Pryce—had yielded only the occasional smart remark.

He was actually a bit impressed that a teenager—normally so volatile and easy to read—had been able to hide his emotions so well. Thrawn had even shown him the map, to gauge his reaction, pick up from his expression some final clue to narrow down the location of the Rebel base, and Ezra had kept the stoic mask up, his face betraying nothing. The Jedi rogue must have taught him a few tricks.

No matter. He'd have the planet's coordinates soon enough. Extracting them from the boy might prove difficult, given his stubborn nature, and the rebels would undoubtedly attempt some sort of rescue for him. But Thrawn had ideas on how to deal with that as well. Assuming, of course, the boy survived more... _extensive_ interrogation.

Either way, Thrawn would have what he wanted. One way or another, Ezra Bridger would be of use to him.

There was another matter he needed to see to presently. Thrawn addressed one of the troopers in the room with him.

"SL-7514, if you would... please send for Agent Kallus."

-SWR-

He had been ducking patrols and avoiding people in the hallway for at least an hour. The only person he'd spoken to had been Lieutenant Lyste, who had been all too eager to come find him after tailing Pryce to Bridger's cell to brag about "his" catch. It was only by pure luck that Kallus and Lyste hadn't run into each other when they had all converged on that brig hallway—though Lyste was probably trusting enough that he wouldn't think anything unusual about Kallus skulking around and hiding. Kallus congratulated the man, certain chagrin was showing through the cracks in his expression, but had hung on to Lyste's data cylinder. It might still help him. If he could only shake its owner off.

"He looks so _different_ now, it's amazing we didn't recognize him sooner!" Lyste was babbling excitedly.

"Indeed," Kallus said flatly, awkwardly looking for an escape. Chopper had updated him a few minutes ago, rolling by and warbling out the news, unnoticed by Lyste. Kanan and Rex were holding steady in a remote system, close enough to hop onto the hyperspace lane and reach Lothal in minutes, but far enough that the Empire wouldn't be looking for them there.

Kallus was still working on ideas for how to extract Ezra. Each plan he came up with sounded flimsier than the last. He was beginning to feel desperate. Short of requesting an all-out attack on Thrawn's Star Destroyer by Phoenix Squadron, he had no clue how to get Imperial attention off the boy long enough to snatch him. And he couldn't ask the Rebels to do that, not for him, not even for Ezra, though he knew they wouldn't hesitate to risk it for them.

He couldn't lead them into that kind of danger.

Stealing a shuttle was looking more and more like the best option for escaping the _Chimaera_. Once again though, how to get Ezra out _with_ it.

"Agent Kallus! Sir!"

Kallus almost jumped out of his skin. "What?" he blurted a little too quickly, turning to face the speaker.

"The Grand Admiral wants to see you on Level Six, sir," the Stormtrooper reported.

 _Oh hell._

Dread pooled in his stomach and it took all of his ingrained self-control not to let it show.

His voice was still a little more strained than normal as he replied, "Ah... yes. Yes of course, I—Right away. Thank you, trooper."

He avoided Lyste's eyes—avoided looking at anyone really—as he reluctantly began to head down.

Nothing for it but to go straight into the rancor's den. Running now was futile. Refusing the Grand Admiral's summons would only confirm Thrawn's suspicions. If he had _any_ chance of scraping through this undiscovered he had to just go in, learn the extent of what Thrawn actually knew, and then bluff his ass off and hope it would be enough.

This stress was going to murder him.

With effort, he managed to compose himself by the time he reached the interrogation room.

Thrawn was standing at the window, observing with a pensive hand to his chin. Red eyes flicked to him briefly.

"Agent Kallus," said Thrawn. "I thought you'd be interested to know the shuttle thief Lieutenant Lyste apprehended turned out to be a much bigger catch. One you're quite familiar with."

The man was unreadable. Heart thumping, Kallus cautiously stepped into the room and came over to stand next to him. Thrawn turned his head toward the window, to indicate.

"The young Lothal rebel Ezra Bridger."

Kallus bit his tongue, forcing his features to remain still, as he looked down into the chamber, where they had Ezra awkwardly secured to an interrogation table and were finishing up final preparations. The boy looked terrified, nervously watching the IT-O droid floating from side to side.

"He's... taller than I remember from the last time I encountered him," Kallus commented awkwardly.

"And cropped his hair, likely why he felt confident enough to return," Thrawn added in a clinical monotone. "He assumed he wouldn't be recognized."

Was there a hint of accusation in there? Kallus couldn't tell. He was straining for signs from Thrawn, for a look, for an inflection in his voice, _something_. The Grand Admiral was as impassive as a droid— _worse_ than a droid, Kallus corrected, remembering Chopper and AP-5 and their respective colorful personalities—and it was _killing_ him.

 _Stay calm,_ he told himself. _Getting nervous will tip him off._

To distract himself, he studied the tray of bottles and syringes Pryce had set up next to her.

He stiffened, recognizing several of the drugs and the particular cocktail they mixed. _They can't be... The Brisney-Favvin Method?_

"Is there something wrong, Agent?" Thrawn asked, with a eerie stare.

His heart was having trouble keeping up with his anxiety. Kallus phrased his words very carefully as he met the man's eyes, feeling his extremities prickling.

"With... all due respect, Grand Admiral," he pointed out, "that table and that procedure are usually used on _adults_ , surely—"

"Ezra Bridger is an enemy of the Empire," Thrawn interrupted emotionlessly. His eyes turned down towards the chamber. "His age is irrelevant."

"Of... of course, Grand Admiral..." Kallus replied meekly, hidden nausea churning through his guts.

He had witnessed dozens of interrogations. Overseen a few himself. But he would have never stood for something like this, even if he hadn't already defected. The Brisney-Favvin could break a full-grown Trandoshan. And they were using it on a _teenager_. Even Colonol Yularen would find it distasteful.

Which was probably why he wasn't there, thought Kallus ruefully. Thrawn hadn't invited him. He didn't want anyone's conscience pricked enough to pose objections.

It was the kind of thing Kallus couldn't help notice now that his eyes were open.

He hated how blind he'd been before.

Pryce was holding up the first syringe. Skirtopanol—a common truth serum, Kallus identified—and a concentrated dose. With a gesture from her, the IT-O droid bobbed forward, robot pincer coming out and clamping on Ezra's chin harshly, pulling down, forcing his jaw open. Pryce stepped forward, also pinching his face with her free hand as she shoved the tube of truth serum directly into his mouth, probably the most uncomfortable place she could inject it.

"Aah..." Ezra whimpered, feeling a sharp pinprick of pain as the needle pierced his gums at the base of his molars.

Kallus winced in sympathy. Pryce stepped back, waiting a few moments for the drug to begin taking effect. Then she called up to the window.

"We're ready to begin, Grand Admiral," came her voice through the speakers.

Thrawn leaned forward, pressing the call button. "Proceed," he told them. "Set voltage to eight milliamperes and duration for ten seconds."

The technicians complied, and Kallus felt his fists tightening, his nails digging into his palms. Wanting very much to be _anywhere_ but there.

 _Hold on, Ezra_ , he prayed.

The head tech threw the switch.

The electrodes on either side of the table sparked to life, arcing across metal and flesh. Ezra convulsed, curling into himself, his face squeezing tight... but his mouth firmly, valiantly, remained shut. All they got out of him were a few pained grunts.

When the ten seconds were up and the electricity ceased, Ezra gasped as if coming up for air—he'd held his breath, Kallus observed—and panted hard, recovering from the shock.

Both figurative and literal in his case.

"Interesting," Thrawn commented, leaning on the call button again. "Increase voltage to thirty milliamperes and set duration to fifteen seconds."

Kallus looked at him in alarm. Down in the chamber the technicians complied and Ezra had only a few seconds to close his eyes, his face growing serene, focusing—no doubt—on the Force to brace—

The electricity arced again and this time a scream tore from him, shrill and high-pitched. Kallus felt it like a slap to his ears, and it twisted a knife in his gut.

Ezra shrieked until the switch was thrown and the current turned off. He slackened in his restraints, head hanging, eyes on the floor, breathing hard.

 _"S... Sithspit..."_ Kallus heard him breathe weakly.

Thrawn gave a cold smile of satisfaction. "I believe you have your sweet spot, Governor," he told Pryce. "Continue with the interrogation."

Pryce's smirk almost cracked her face as she motioned for the techs to shock Ezra again. The boy's head and back jerked up, slammed against the metal table as his body thrashed involuntarily.

Kallus's face was ashen. The nausea was churning full throttle in his stomach now. Once again his feet had taken root, refusing to budge no matter how much his insides clawed for action.

He was petrified, a prisoner in his own body, helpless to stop Ezra's torment.

The boy looked up through the window right at him, blue eyes desperate, pleading. Telegraphing a terrified, _Help me!_

Kallus's eyes pinched, his features twisting hopelessly. _I **can't**._

He was suddenly aware of Thrawn's eyes on him, and swallowed, trying to rearrange his expression. His neutral facade felt flat, unconvincing.

He knew immediately that Thrawn could see right through him.

"It's fascinating, really," the Grand Admiral was commenting lightly. "Just how far these Rebels will go for their mission. What risks they will take for their friends."

Kallus felt his heartrate spike and sputter.

"The boy did not return to Lothal to steal a shuttle. He came to retrieve something. Or rather... _someone_."

Dread congealed in his gullet and Kallus closed his eyes.

 _He knows._

Thrawn regarded him with an icy look of disdain, frowning, brows low over his eyes. "A pity that he met with failure." He straightened, rigid and imposing. "Troopers, take Agent Kallus into custody," he ordered.

As the troopers came forward, Kallus numbly accepted defeat. Ezra's screaming continued down in the chamber, his agony beating on Kallus's eardrums like a merciless sledgehammer.

 _I'm sorry, Ezra_ , thought Kallus, as the binders clicked around his wrists. _I'm sorry._

That was all he could think as the troopers led him away. Just those two words, over and over.

 _I'm sorry._

* * *

(A/N)- Chapter notes!

1\. Symoxin, according to Legends canon, is a common painkiller. According to Wookiepedia concentrated doses can be used as a knockout substance. So basically Ezra is allergic to the equivalent of aspirin or penicillin.

2\. Commander Brisney and Barrisk Favvin are both New Canon members of ISB.

3\. In addition to being a truth serum, skirtopanol also increases sensitivity to pain.

4\. The average human body can withstand electric currents up to 60 mA (depending on fat and muscle structure and not without some damage if the shock is prolonged) before serious chances of death start.

We're not quite done wringing the angst out of this AU, so stay tuned for the next chapter! And leave a review if you liked it. :)


	2. Endure

(A/N)- I keep rewatching "Zero Hour", I think I have a problem. Anyway, on to the chapter!

Depictions of torture throughout, squeamish be warned.

Disclaimer: I stupidly erased my original copy of this chapter while correcting spelling errors so I don't remember what I had here. Oh well.

* * *

 **Endure**

Everything was a haze of pain.

Ezra didn't know how long they'd tortured him. His sense of time was distorted, his mind fogged from the shocks and the myriad drugs and serums they had flooded him with. He was barely conscious of what was happening around him. He would be writhing in pain, then given a brief rest, three times in a regular repeating cycle. Then the pain would stop and voices would ask him questions. He muttered, but he didn't really know what he was saying. Evidently it was never what his tormentors wanted to hear, for the pain would start again, worse and worse each time.

He couldn't tell if they were increasing the intensity of the shocks or if the drugs were just increasing his sensitivity. Every time his head started to clear, every time he felt a little more lucid, they injected him again and plunged him back into the drugged haze.

The only thing that cut through it was the agony.

He'd tried to reach out to the Force, wrap it around him for some measure of relief. But he couldn't focus; the Force slipped away from his grasping fingers. There was no respite for him, no shelter from the blinding, stabbing pain they assaulted him with.

About two cycles ago they'd added something new to the drug cocktail, something that burned his insides even through his rest periods. Ezra whimpered softly as he felt it like slow-moving lava through his veins.

A female voice was speaking. Fingers prodded at him, trying to get his attention.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't have the energy. His vision was just a blur anyways.

The fingers gently brushed his cheek.

Unconsciously, he tilted his head into the gesture.

"He... ra...?" he rasped. His throat was cracked and sore, his voice weak from screaming.

"That's right, dear," the voice cooed, soothingly. "I need your help."

 _Okay...?_

"Where does Fulcrum transmit from? I need you to tell me."

 _Transmit?_

"N... no..."

"His life is in danger. You need to tell me."

Ezra shook his head. "Y're not Hera..." he slurred. Hera wasn't here. Hera would already know, if anyone did.

"Of course I am," the voice reassured him. "Don't you want to help Fulcrum?"

"Not Hera..." Ezra repeated, his head still shaking. "Go 'way."

"Tell me what I want to know."

Ezra tuned the voice out, going still, slackening, trying to sink into oblivion to escape her questions and the constant burning through his limbs. With how drowsy he was from the sedatives already, it was easy to let his mind go blank, let his consciousness slowly fade into—

Something struck him hard across his face. Ezra yelped, startling back into awareness. His lolling eyes fixed on the blur that was Pryce's face, trying to focus.

She didn't look happy.

"You'll sleep when we're finished," she growled. She grabbed his face in her hand, her nails digging into his skin. "You can end all of this," she told him. "Tell me what I want to know, and it all stops."

Force, he was really beginning to hate her.

Ezra hardened his eyes, his fists clenching. "'ll die firs'," he said.

She stared him down a moment, scowling. Then she stepped back with a haughty sniff.

"Very well." She nodded at the technician. "Begin another round."

Ezra held back a moan of despair as the electrodes charged again.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold out.

-SWR-

"Something's wrong," Kanan said, fidgeting, tapping the console. "We should have heard something from him by now."

"Take it easy, Kanan," Rex told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Chopper'll update us on the situation as soon as he's able."

The words didn't reassure him. Kanan had been agitated since Chopper had first reported in, and the echoes he could sense in the Force only added to his worry.

He'd had some reservations about the mission from the beginning. A light cruiser was no Imperial Academy, and going in as a prisoner was considerably more risky than going as someone who belonged there. Ezra hadn't liked it much either. But it had been a simple enough plan at first. Get in, extract Kallus, get out. Thrawn showing up was more than a little panic-inducing. This was the second time the man had turned up exactly when and where the Rebels were planning to move and Kanan was beginning to wonder if the tentative trust they'd placed in Kallus had been a mistake.

His ears pricked up at the click that said a transmission was incoming.

"Speak o' the old clanker..." Rex commented. Kanan sensed him shift forward, heard him open the channel. "What's happening, Chopper? Has Kallus got Ezra yet?"

Chopper sounded as anxious as Kanan felt as he relayed his message.

"The brig?" Rex repeated in surprise. "They found him out?"

Kanan felt no satisfaction from knowing he was right to worry.

There was a creak as Rex leaned back again. "Well, that's a problem," he said.

 _That's an understatement,_ Kanan thought.

"Now what?"

The Jedi exhaled heavily. "I'm not sure," he said. "Give me a minute."

He closed his eyes—not that it made a difference but old habits died hard—and tuned in to the Force. The echoes at once became clear, the burning ripples of distress from his padawan beaming to him strongly through their bond.

It must have shown on his face, for Rex asked in concern, "Kanan? What is it?"

He inhaled slowly, opening his eyes and coming out of the Force. "Ezra's in pain." Kanan turned toward the dashboard. "Chopper, we need those clearance codes. We're coming to get you."

 _"WUB WUB-WUB WUUB—"_

"I know what Kallus said!" Kanan snapped. "Just get the codes so we can get Ezra out of there!"

"Kanan..." Rex called. He heard the stoic warning in the old Clone Trooper's voice, the quiet defeat. "They'll be expecting us."

Harsh words almost slipped from him, but Kanan bit his lip and clamped them down. He hated to admit it. Rex was right.

"I know," he blurted. "I just..."

Swiveling in the pilot's chair , Kanan stood, feeling his way towards the door. He couldn't just sit still. He needed to feel like he was doing something.

"See if you can contact Ryder," he instructed. "Maybe he can do something from the ground. I need to talk to Hera." He paused at the doorway, one hand on the frame. He sighed, turning back towards the cockpit. "Chopper, you and AP-5 do what you can. But if we don't hear from you in two hours we _are_ going to come get you, and you'd better have those clearance codes when we do." He turned his head toward Rex. "That should give us enough time to come up with something, right?"

"Let's hope so," Rex just replied, flicking buttons on the dash to call up Ryder Azadi.

-SWR-

Chopper unplugged from the communications terminal with an aggravated sigh and relayed Kanan's instructions to AP-5.

"Do what we can. That's not very specific," the inventory droid said. "Have you any ideas?"

The astromech rolled back from the wall, chirping out a suggestion.

"Infiltrate the security system?" He mused on the idea a moment. "Yes, that could work. If we could get into the system we could gain access to the security cameras and at least be able to see where they are keeping Bridger and Agent Kallus."

Chopper grunted in enthusiasm, already starting to roll out.

"Hold on a moment, you're not going to be careless about this like you were when you _first_ contacted the retrieval team are you?" AP-5 asked sharply, following behind him. He had already made the C1 unit change terminals twice, and scramble the codes they were using to contact the shuttle. Broadcasting Rebel transmissions from an Imperial starship once was foolish, more than that was ludicrously illogical.

Chopper replied with a surly string of grumbles.

"It _was_ careless, plugging in to the first available port on an unknown vessel could have compromised the entire mission!" AP-5 argued hotly. "You're lucky I am around to guide you."

The astromech huffed. _"WUB WUB. WUB WEB WUB."_

"It's this way," AP-5 said, pointing. "We must be cautious." The droid glanced around the hallway as if searching for unwanted listeners. "We don't want anyone to know we're here."

For once, Chopper had no grouchy remark to reply back with, only giving an anxious hum to agree.

The droids fell silent, and so became invisible to the crew of the _Chimaera_.

-SWR-

Hurt. It all hurt.

Pain. Fog. Burning. Always burning. Cold trickles through his veins. The drugs again. More drugs. Needle pricks. They stabbed him in his neck, his arms, his stomach.

Itching. Why was he itching?

It was hard to breathe. His lungs were struggling.

What were they doing to him?

The voices blended. He couldn't tell one from the other. He thought Pryce might've hit him again a few times but he wasn't sure. It was so hard to think.

He missed Hera. And Kanan and... everyone.

Harsh coughing racked his frame. His chest felt like it was squeezing him.

Sharp pain, prolonged, like hot metal through his limbs. That was the electrodes. The feeling vanished, leaving his limbs twitching.

Nerves on fire. Thin metal cutting him. Scalpels? Maybe.

Wouldn't be surprised if they were trying to bleed the answers out of him.

The voices were yelling again. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He just wanted to _sleep_.

 _So tired... Kanan..._

Where _was_ Kanan anyway?

"C'ming for me..." he heard himself mutter.

His heart was still jolting and it _hurt_. He just wanted to curl up but he was so numb and he couldn't _move_.

What was Pryce trying to ask him now? Force, he didn't even care. She was making his ears ring. He gathered as much moisture from his dry, parched mouth as he could. From the sharp copper taste it was probably actually mostly blood. Whatever. He spat it out.

An indignant squawk cracked his hearing. Sounded like he'd hit her in the face.

Good.

Hope she choked on it.

Oh but now there were pincers squeezing his face, crushing his jaw in an iron-hard grip, and he regretted everything.

 _The Force... I need..._

His mind reached out, weakly. Don't grab for it too hard, Kanan had taught him. Let it come to you. Let it flow into you. Be at peace.

The edges of his consciousness turned warm.

-SWR-

Thrawn stared down through the window, frowning darkly. The technicians were putting away their tools, stacking the empty syringes on the tray. Ezra Bridger had had about as much as he could take for now. He was insensate, and no longer coherent enough to give any reply to their interrogation.

And he had defiantly given up... nothing.

The door hissed and Pryce stepped into the room, wiping off her gloves with a sour look.

"Stubborn little _whelp_ ," she grumbled. She scratched furiously at a smear on her cheek.

Stirring, the Grand Admiral turned from the window to face her. "The boy's resistance is... impressive," Thrawn admitted, begrudgingly. He paced towards the opposite wall, distracted, already considering their next course of action. "We will resume our session after the next rotation," he said. They had pushed Bridger to the edge of his endurance. Likely the boy would break after another intensive round. For now, though, continuing would be futile; there were no answers to be gleaned from an unconscious body. "In the meantime," he told Governor Pryce, changing the subject, "we should turn our attentions to the matter of Fulcrum."

"Our rebel spy." Pryce put away her handcloth and clasped her hands behind her. "Do you think Agent Kallus will talk?" she asked.

"ISB would have trained him to resist interrogation," Thrawn dismissed. "Though gratifying, such an attempt would yield few answers." It wasn't an unpleasant thought, having his men take a few rounds against the traitor.

"He seems to have some sentiment for Bridger," Pryce noted. "Could we employ the boy as leverage against him?"

Thrawn smirked faintly. "Amusing, but... no. Agent Kallus is too practical; he will not give up the wider Rebel base just for Bridger's sake."

He started to pace again.

"Now that we know they are connected, however, we can review our intelligence information with fresh eyes." Thrawn touched a hand to his chin in thought, then made a decision. "Speak with Agent Kallus's associates and subordinates," he instructed Pryce. "Let us see if we can get a map of his recent movements. And I want everything we have on him, all records, reports, and files." If there was a pattern, he would spot it easily.

She nodded curtly. "As you wish, Grand Admiral."

She departed swiftly, leaving him to his thoughts. Thrawn glanced through the observation window. Bridger was limp, head lolling on his shoulder. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he was completely still.

So. Once again the boy's resilience surprised him. But Thrawn was nothing if not patient. And torturing Bridger was not nearly his only angle.

As he left the observation room he was already bringing to mind his keen recollection of Bridger's file, sifting through the information, analyzing everything and disregarding nothing.

The boy would come to regret his defiance.

* * *

(A/N)- Chapter notes!

1\. Not as much Kallus this round, I know, but don't worry, he'll be back next chapter.

2\. Worried Spacedad is worried. :)

3\. Since the Imperials were able to pick up the first coded transmission Chopper sent (as conveyed by Yularen in the episode), it became necessary to explain how they're able to keep talking to Kanan and Rex without continuing to arouse suspicion. So my excuse is basically that Chopper was sloppy and half-assed his job the first time and AP-5 has been riding his butt about it and making him take extra precautions to mask their signal ever since.

Chapter Three will be uploaded shortly and I'm actually working on Chapter Four presently so. Expect to see that one soon as well. :)


	3. Extracted

(A/N)- Apologies dear readers, I had intended to get this chapter up earlier. It's a long one, so I won't keep you very long.

Many thanks to my reviewers, your words are lovely and make my day! :)

On to the chapter!

Disclaimer: *cries* Season Four, why so far awaaaaaaaay?

* * *

 **Extracted**

There was an old story, in which a hero was tasked with destroying a cursed tapestry, without setting blade or tool to it. The clever protagonist of the tale had examined the tapestry closely, finding among the thousands of strands a single loose thread that, when pulled, unraveled the fabric at its seams.

Thrawn had the tale hovering idly at the back of his mind as his crimson eyes perused his kaleidoscope of holographic displays. Ezra's information was projected on one side, a portion of Kallus's data on the other.

Bridger was beginning to awaken. Thrawn had dispatched a few of his people to the room with... special instructions. He had remained in his office, looking over the files that Pryce had brought him.

People were almost as fascinating a study as art. Almost. Each snippet of information told him some new aspect and facet of the man who had become Agent Kallus, rebel spy.

Thrawn pulled up a new hologram. After perusing it a moment or two, he straightened, and leaned forward in his seat.

Here was something. Whenever he was stationed above Lothal, Kallus appeared to make frequent, unannounced trips to the planet's surface. From the shuttle logs, always to Capital City.

Now what was down there that he had to keep visiting without telling anyone?

Remembering something, Thrawn shifted his focus back to Ezra's files. The one he was looking for wasn't currently projected, so he had to rifle through them on the console to find it first.

A cold smile touched his lips.

He'd found his thread.

-SWR-

The guard station on Level Five was smaller than the others, crewed by only two people. Both of which, after getting over the excitement of having a Rebel spy and an infamous Lothal troublemaker in the brig, were now once again... very bored.

One of them sat slumped forward in his chair, flicking bits of crumpled durasheet off the panel with his fingers. The other paced back and forth idly.

"So when do you think they're gonna junk the old BTL-A4s?"

The one seated shrugged. "Hopefully soon, if they keep getting stolen."

 _THUMP!_

"Oh, what now?" he groaned, shooting a glare towards the closed door.

The man pacing lifted his sidearm, heading for the exit. "If that Nikto in Cell B-138 is banging on the walls again I'm just gonna—"

He didn't get to finish, for as soon as he punched the button to open the door he was assaulted at knee level by a powerful shock.

He let out a rather undignified shriek before toppling backwards, out like a light.

The other guard snapped his head around and had just enough time to take in the black and red metal dome and think, _A droid?_ before an arc of electricity shot across the room to hit him square in the chest.

He twitched in his seat, comically wide-eyed, before slumping over and not moving.

Chopper rolled into the room, cackling maniacally. He smugly shimmied up to the plug-in port, extending his arm.

"No, no, no, no!" AP-5 scolded sharply, strutting in and grabbing the astromech by the dome, sliding him back. "Do not just bludgeon your way into the system! You'll set off every alarm on the ship."

Chopper buzzed irritably at him, demanding to know how then he should proceed.

"Most binary programs are reasonable. Try asking nicely," AP-5 told him, waving towards the port.

The C1 droid chirped skeptically, but slowly rolled back towards the port, hesitantly plugging in. The system registered him, querying his intentions.

 _"WWWwww-WUB?"_ Chopper tried awkwardly.

The system responded politely, asking for his authentication code. Chopper dug it up from his memory files and passed it on.

After a moment or two, he was permitted access, and suddenly found the entire network open to him. He beeped in pleasant surprise, turning his head around to compliment his counterpart.

"Thank me later," AP-5 dismissed. "Let's see about getting those camera feeds to display on the screen."

-SWR-

Kallus paced back and forth in his cell, wearing a hole in the floor. His ears strained anxiously for any sound of movement, any hint that they were bringing Ezra down to a cell.

There'd been nothing for almost two hours. So they still had him in Interrogation.

He could still hear the boy's screams as echoes in his mind. Was that why no one had been down to confront him yet? So he could go mad worrying about what they were doing to him?

Well it was working.

Kallus forced himself to stand still a moment and take a deep breath. This wasn't helping. He needed to _think._

All that kept running through his head was Ezra's face, twisted in pain. It was _his_ fault the boy was here. The Rebels had come for _him_. To save _him._ Ezra had made his dislike of him and the plan to extract him vehemently apparent and he had still come, still put himself in danger in order to get Kallus out. Absurd, but after so many encounters with Bridger, no longer surprising.

And now he was suffering for it.

And more would follow, if Kallus couldn't figure out an escape. Kallus knew the crew of the _Ghost_ too well—Jarrus would not continue to sit out in space fretting forever. The Jedi was... reckless when it came to his padawan.

He didn't realize he'd resumed pacing until the sound of footsteps out in the hallway made him stop in his tracks. Kallus froze, listening hard.

Several pairs, heavy-booted. They were coming from the wrong end. It wasn't Ezra. They were here for him.

Fear prickled in his heart, but he steeled himself, turning to face the door. Every limb tensed, ready to jump the guard the minute the door was open.

 _Borrowing tricks from Bridger_ , he thought, shaking his head. _What_ _ **have**_ _I come to?_

The first trooper would be standing left of the door, at the access panel. There would be a second just behind him waiting to enter the cell, and possibly a third hovering to the right. If protocol was followed, he'd have approximately two seconds between when the door opened and when the guards proceeded into the cell. His timing would have to be precise down to the millisecond.

Lunge forward, grab the wrist of the facing trooper, get inside his firing arc, stun with blow to the diaphragm. Swing him around and smash him into the guard by the panel. Retrieve sidearm, shoot all guards before they're able to sound the alarm.

Several variations of the scenario were already rehearsed and perfected in his mind when the stray thought came to him suddenly— _What if the Grand Admiral or Governor Pryce is out there?_ —and he scrambled, adrenaline sounding stressful alarms inside him, but the code cylinder was already clicking in the lock, no time, every muscle strained, ready to move—

There _was_ a white uniform in-between the Stormtroopers. But the man wearing it was not Thrawn.

"Yularen!"

He couldn't help the surprise—and relief—in his voice. His body relaxed involuntarily, the planned action he'd intended fading fast. He had no chance with Thrawn or Pryce. Even Lyste would probably show him no sympathy now. But Yularen...

Yularen could be... persuaded.

There was a look on his old mentor's face, a bald, betrayed sort of disbelief. "Is it true?" he asked, and Kallus's relief slowly began to morph into guilt. "You," Yularen strained, emotion clogging his voice as the door closed behind him, "are Fulcrum?"

Kallus lowered his head and said nothing.

"Are you?" Yularen pressed.

He considered the merits of denying it, running through a few different excuses in his head. But by now Yularen would know of Bridger's capture, would know Kallus had concealed the boy's presence. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Not now.

He sighed in defeat. "I am," he answered.

Kallus lifted his eyes, and almost regretted it upon seeing his superior's expression.

 _"Why?"_ Yularen asked, shaking his head like he still couldn't believe it.

Kallus gave a short, bitter laugh. "I've asked myself that same question," he drawled. "Why would I defy the Empire? Why would anyone?" he asked rhetorically. His shoulders rolled in a half-shrug, his voice lowering. "Maybe I was just tired of yelling over my conscience," he muttered.

It had been all too easy to drown out the sound of his doubts before. He still couldn't quite tell when he had begun to listen. Certainly not at Lasan, though the guilt from that day had prickled him like a festering needle even then. Perhaps it had started at Tarkin's arrival. When the Governor callously had Aresko and Grint executed right there in the office—good men, not very bright or particularly competent but eager and loyal to the Empire—it had stunned Kallus to his core. Massacring the Empire's enemies was one thing. Thoughtlessly killing their own... shook him.

But then he had turned around and done the exact same thing to poor Tua, so perhaps that had not been the true start of his turn at all, just the crack through which the seed could be planted.

Yularen spoke again, pulling Kallus out of his musings.

"But treason, Kallus? Spying for the Rebels, trading them Imperial secrets?" Yularen said, incredulously. "You knew the consequences for that."

"I did." _Executed for treason_ , he'd screeched at Ezra, almost hysterically, just that morning. Kallus shook his head. "But I couldn't just do nothing. If that leads to my death, then..." Kallus had to swallow down the fear building up a lump in his throat. He didn't _want_ to die. But it seemed inevitable now, so he had to at least accept the possibility. "...so be it," he finished.

He felt just a little lighter for having said it.

"But you were more determined than anyone to catch these Rebels, see them brought to justice," Yularen protested. Kallus held himself back from making a biting quip about the Empire's idea of 'justice'. Yularen gestured with agitated motions. "Now you'd die for them?" he demanded to know.

Kallus gave a grimace of chagrin. "That wasn't the ideal plan," he told Yularen. "But if that's what it takes to keep their location secret and get Ezra off this ship..."

Yularen shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to."

"You were a star pupil. You're one of the best ISB has to offer," Yularen reminded him, anger beginning to creep into his voice. "You would throw that all away? Throw away your _life?_ " The stern rebuke held a touch of concern. Yularen still had some fondness for his former student, Kallus noted for reference. He could use that. The older man stilled, face still full of disbelief. "For the boy? For Bridger?" he repeated.

"Do you know what they're doing to him, right now?" Kallus interrupted, remembering Yularen had a grandson about Ezra's age.

"Questioning him, I suppose," Yularen shrugged with stiff indifference.

"They're using the Brisney-Favvin on him."

Kallus's words had their desired effect. Yularen stopped his ranting, his eyes growing ever so slightly wider. For a long time, the older man didn't speak, processing what Kallus had said.

The silence stretched out.

Finally Yularen spoke up, haltingly, sounding almost unsure of himself.

"...The Senate has strict regulations about—"

"I know," Kallus interrupted once again. "And if I were another man..." Kallus sighed as he shook his head. "...if I were the same man I was six months ago... I might have kept my mouth shut. Justified it in the name of order, of putting down the Empire's enemies, despite whatever... personal misgivings I had." He met Yularen's gaze, gesturing helplessly with his hands. "But I... I _can't_ anymore, Yularen," he said. "I've seen... I _know_ too much of the Empire's true face. And I can't stand proudly with it as I once did. I am... ashamed I ever did," he admitted, hanging his head, the weight of the confession pulling him down.

Yularen didn't speak for a long moment. Kallus was a little worried he'd pushed too far with the wrong tactic, as he peeked up from under his lids, measuring the frown lines on Yularen's face.

Or... maybe not? He'd known the man to react with disgust to most incidents of treason and he'd yet to hear any. Kallus chanced looking up again. Yularen looked deep in thought, eyes pinched from some internal conflict.

"How old is your grandson?" Kallus said abruptly.

Yularen stirred a bit, replying blankly, "Eighteen. Just graduated the Academy."

There was an undercurrent of somber emotion in the old man's voice. Kallus nodded soberly. "Ezra's just a little younger than him, then," he said. He stepped forward a bit, arms out, open-palmed. "Can you imagine? How you'd feel if it was him strapped to that table?"

A flash of pain in Yularen's eyes, good. Ezra was becoming less of a concept and more of a human to him, a person with feelings and people who cared about him. That was part of what had worked on Kallus—that glimpse of the _Ghost_ crew on the Geonosian moon, out of combat, relating to each other like friends, like _family._ It would work here.

He hoped.

"You know it's wrong, Yularen. Please... help me save him," Kallus pleaded. He drew slightly closer, some of his own guilt and desperation rising to the surface. "It's my fault he's here. Help me make it _right_ ," he begged.

For a long time Yularen just stared at him, a private war waging behind his eyes. Kallus's body was tense with anticipation. He was just starting to run through ways to disable the man when Yularen broke eye contact with a sigh.

"...Make it look good," he instructed.

Kallus's legs buckled, and he very nearly staggered on his feet as the relief crashed over him like a pounding wave. Yularen still trusted him.

He might not understand his actions, or why he would turn on the Empire, but he trusted him.

That was good enough for now.

"Thank you," he breathed, reverently.

-SWR-

The two men on the screen appeared to be in some sort of argument. Chopper had been only paying half-attention, more focused on the camera feed that showed Interrogation. But when there was a sudden flurry of activity in the other room his motors jerked his head around, drawn to the motion.

Kallus was engaged in a pitched scuffle with a white-uniformed officer. It was intense, the ISB agent had the other man on the ropes quickly, though his opponent seemed to be giving as good as he got.

The skirmish ended when Kallus slammed his opponent into the wall, just in time for the cell door to open and a pair of Stormtroopers to come rushing in. As the officer crumbled Kallus whipped around to lunge at the first trooper, both hands grabbing hold of his weapon.

 _"Sir! We have_ — _"_

In the seconds it took for Chopper to cut off the comlink feed and prevent the general alert from being sent out, Kallus had pulled some trick that had disarmed the trooper he was wrestling with. Blaster in hand, the agent pulled back.

Three shots. Three bucketheads down. The last trooper banged his helmet against the console as he dropped.

Kallus stood alone, breathing hard, amidst the chaos.

 _"WOAH,"_ Chopper beeped, stunned and... slightly impressed.

"Well. That was efficient," said AP-5, apparently sharing the sentiment. The inventory droid swiveled. "Chopper, see if you can patch in to the comlink in one of those troopers' helmets."

 _"WUB-WUB,"_ the astromech acknowledged, his manipulator clicking in the port.

-SWR-

"Is he _still_ awake?"

The head technician stepped back, squinting at the limp body of their prisoner. Ezra gave a low moan, turning his head a bit.

"Eh, barely," he dismissed. He waved over for an aide to bring the tray. "Better give him another dose anyway."

"We've already given him enough to knock out a man twice his size!" the first tech complained.

The head technician shrugged. "You heard the Grand Admiral's orders. Here, give me the syringe."

His subordinate sighed, but passed it over. The head tech took it, looking for a place to stick Ezra. There were plenty of older holes he could reopen.

He'd just taken hold of Ezra's left arm when there was a commotion from outside. The technicians looked up in confusion, hearing thumps, thuds, and a few shouts. There was silence a moment and then a code cylinder unlocked the door.

"Trooper, what's going—"

The Stormtrooper suddenly raised his blaster, firing a deadly red bolt directly into the head technician's chest. The other two barely even had time to yell before they, too, were shot dead.

Three more bodies fell at his feet.

Kallus yanked off the Stormtrooper helmet, muttering low curses. "Blasted optics," he complained, setting the helmet aside on the tray. How anyone expected them to see straight through those helmets was beyond him.

The agent turned towards the interrogation table, haltingly, pulse rapid.

Ezra was unnaturally pale and still as death, only the soft sound of his breathing a sign that he was still alive. Kallus bit his lip as he took in the boy's condition.

His head lolled, the movement sluggish. He was still very drugged, almost to the point of unconsciousness. His mercenary disguise was a bit worse for wear, needle holes and rips spotting it, and the fabric singed in places. Ezra's face was bruised and burned, his lip bloody, and... was that an _allergy rash?_

Shaking off his horror, Kallus reached for the restraints holding Ezra to the table, quickly beginning to unfasten them. Ezra stirred as he worked, bleary eyes unfocused, clouded.

"Shndn't've come..." he muttered. "...stupid..."

Kallus couldn't tell if Ezra was referring to him, or to himself. "We can scold each other later," he told Ezra, throwing off the final strap. "Can you walk?" He took hold of Ezra's left arm, slowly easing him away from the table.

The minute his feet found the floor Ezra's knees collapsed, the boy falling heavily against Kallus's side, Kallus scrambling to catch him.

He was heavier than Kallus expected. The man hefted Ezra upright by the armpits with a grunt. "I guess not," he concluded.

"'m okay... 'm..." Ezra insisted, rolling up to a wobbly stand. His shaky legs were slow to move, but he made a few stumbling steps towards the door, with Kallus's careful direction.

"Don't try so hard," the agent told him gently, slinging Ezra's arm over his shoulder to support him. It was amazing the boy could stand at all, with all the empty vials of sedatives littering the worktray next to them. "Come on," he urged.

He left the helmet behind. He couldn't see out of the blasted thing and he would've drawn suspicion dragging Ezra along either way. This part of the escape would be the most harrowing. He was counting on Chopper and AP-5 to direct him away from patrols, but even their eyes were limited to where the cameras were.

 _Luck_ would be his greatest ally here.

"Chopper, AP, I'm on my way down," he said into his comlink, as he yanked Lyste's code cylinder from the lock on their way out. Both devices had been shortly retrieved from the prisoner belongings locker. Kallus was grateful for the Stormtrooper's rigid adherence to protocol. And their assumption that the cylinder was his. His own code authorization would have been locked out of the system by now.

He hoped it caused Lyste no undue amounts of hassle.

 _"We are generating a general alert on Level Eight, Agent Kallus,"_ AP-5 relayed. _"That should draw a few patrols out of your path."_

"Create one for Levels Three, Seven, and Nine as well," Kallus instructed. "Then cut off all comlink transmissions and internal communications for the whole ship and meet me outside the hanger bay."

 _"Acknowledged."_

Kallus stowed the comlink. "Hopefully that'll cause enough chaos for us to slip through," he muttered to himself, half-leading, half-dragging Ezra beside him. He sighed in aggravation. "I wish you'd brought your lightsaber. We could've cut a shorter path." But then again, the boy was in no condition to wield it. They'd just have to make do.

Kallus led them away from Interrogation. Groggy, Ezra wasn't always able to keep up with the agent's frantic pace, and tripped often, slowing them both down. He lurched back upright each time, determinedly, even though the hallway rocked dizzily around his pounding head and his vision and hearing blurred in and out. His thoughts slogged through a thick hazy mire. There was something pulling at the back of his mind. Something... important. Ezra felt _so_ certain he had something he needed to tell Kallus...

The agent pulled them back, sharply. He flattened them to the wall, holding in a breath as a pair of Stormtroopers trotted down the intersecting hallway.

 _They're heading for the aft turbolifts. Tube three was on Level Five. Thirty seconds to call it to this floor, then allow ten to fifteen seconds for them to board,_ Kallus calculated in his head.

He started counting, waiting for the Stormtroopers to be gone before he risked sprinting them towards the lifts.

 _Ten... eleven... twelve..._

Ezra's fingers were pinching the corner of Kallus's breastplate armor, tugging insistently. Kallus ignored it.

 _Twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five.._

"Kallus..." Ezra slurred.

"Not now, Ezra," Kallus hissed. _Thirty-seven... thirty-eight..._ He pushed off from the wall and started moving them towards the lifts, gripping Ezra's arm tighter to keep a better hold of him. The boy's head drooped towards his chest, his feet leaden and sliding. His voice was barely a mumble.

"...put s'mthing... 'side me..."

 _That_ got Kallus's attention.

"What?" Kallus stopped dead in his tracks, alarm bells in his head, swinging Ezra around to face him. "What was it? What did they put inside you?" he asked. He was already scanning down the boy with his eyes, looking for anything unusual. He quickly spotted the long rip, too clean and precise, in Ezra's shirt. His fingers found the gash, felt underneath. His breath hitched, the ringing alarms in his head growing louder as he uncovered the wide, stitched-up surgical cut, running straight across Ezra's abdomen.

 _That's not from the interrogation,_ came the horrible realization.

Kallus gripped the boy's shoulders tightly, raising his eyes to Ezra's face.

"Ezra—" he called. Ezra's head started to fall forward, and Kallus turned his face to make him look back up. "Ezra, look at me! You have to concentrate! _What_ did they put inside you?" he asked urgently, shaking him by the shoulders.

Ezra squinted in confusion, racking his brain. Trying to bring up the dull memory he had of the surgical blade and the hands poking under his skin. Pushing something in.

Dazed, he whispered all he could remember.

"...metal..."

Adrenaline kicked into overdrive for Kallus. He slung Ezra's arm over his shoulder once more and didn't wait for the boy to get his feet under him, pulling them both to the corridor in front of the turbolifts and pounding the button.

"That's _not_ good," he said. As soon as the door opened he bustled them inside, casting worried glances at Ezra every few steps.

He pulled out his blaster. Four levels down, left turn, sharp right to bypass a guard station, a long hallway and then left again and he'd be at the hanger bay. If he was lucky, there were only about three patrols in his path. And an untold number of things that could go wrong.

The door opened and Kallus shot the man waiting outside before he'd even had time to cry out.

No time to waste. It was a long way still to the hanger, he could only shoot one-handed, and he had to keep Ezra off his feet as much as possible, so as not to aggravate his wound.

If they survived this, he was going to gray early, he just knew it.

-SWR-

Chopper rolled back and forth, swiveling every few paces, the droid equivalent of pacing. Alarms sounded dully through the ceiling above them, and muffled footsteps rattled down the hallways. His manipulators were itching to plug back into an outlet somewhere, get some kind of idea what was going on, but ever since disconnecting from the security system and leaving the guard room their eyes had been dark.

By his calculations, Agent Kallus was about five minutes late.

He beeped out his worry to AP-5.

"Bridger's condition may be slowing him down. He's still within the margin of error. Give him a little more time." AP-5's flat monotone sounded just a tad shriller, more anxious. Chopper was glad to know he wasn't the only one concerned.

Six minutes.

Chopper was about ready to find the nearest data port and demand an answer from the _Chimaera_ 's computers, irregardless of how many alerts that sent out, when his sensors picked up the approaching footsteps.

He jerked around so fast his wheel skidded.

Kallus was rounding the corner, practically carrying Ezra as they rushed along. Chopper gave a worried noise as he rolled to meet them.

"What took you?" AP-5 asked, ambling along after Chopper.

Kallus grunted, leaning Ezra against the wall for a moment, setting him down gently. "We ran into some problems," he summarized, shedding the last pieces of the white outer shell of the Stormtrooper armor—which he'd already halfway taken off, trying to lighten their weight so they could move faster.

Once disposed of the armor, he reached down and raised Ezra's arm up, pulling it back over his shoulder, tugging him back up. Ezra moaned softly in protest, but didn't resist, his legs weak as he stood on them. Kallus swung around to face the C1 unit.

"Chopper, I need you to scan Bridger for foreign objects," he ordered.

Chopper grunted in surprise, but complied. After a moment or two he clicked, holographic display turning on, beaming out a wire-frame image of a small, cylindrical device.

Kallus thought several choice curse words, hissing aloud only Zeb Orrelios's favorite, _"Karabast."_ His mouth twisted. "I was afraid of that," he said, shaking his head.

"What is _that_?" asked AP-5, recoiling.

"I'm not sure," Kallus replied. "But it resembles an incendiary device."

"Oh. Lovely," the inventory droid remarked flatly. "So what is the plan?"

The agent glanced towards the hanger door. "There should be two shuttles already docked. It's twenty meters to either one, a thirty-second dash if we're quick." He glanced at Ezra. "More realistically it will be fifty seconds. We'll make for the one on the left. Input the coordinates to the waypoint as soon as we're in." He sighed. "And if we're lucky, whatever they put in Ezra's stomach won't explode."

He motioned forward.

Silently, the trio struck for the hanger door, which opened almost soundlessly for them. Kallus was already scanning all around the room with his eyes, eyes and ears keened for signs of trouble.

Problem the first, there was a third shuttle just coming in for a landing directly ahead. Its ramp was already extending. Kallus hissed through his teeth, steering them towards the edge of the room.

 _"Stop!"_

Problem the second. That was Governor Pryce's voice, right behind them.

Kallus doubled pace, trying to get them behind cover. Blaster fire singed his hair and he was forced to drop Ezra, turn and crouch to put both hands on his sidearm and return fire.

The trooper next to Pryce dropped backwards. The others came on, four of them at least, and further down the hall he could see several more. So his first few shots were aimed at the door controls.

The panel blew out in a shower of sparks, sealing the doors shut behind Pryce and her entourage.

 _That won't hold them forever,_ he knew. He tried to reach for Ezra, but a rapid burst of blaster bolts forced him to dive around behind a supply crate.

He popped up, firing and felling another trooper. "AP, get Ezra out of here!" he shouted.

But the inventory droid was cut off too, flailing awkwardly out in the open, only avoiding being hit because he wasn't the Stormtroopers' target.

Where had Chopper gotten to?

Kallus spotted him, charging Pryce with his electro prod extended.

"What are you doing?!" he yelled at the astromech in frustration.

Pryce glared at the droid, leaning back and swiftly side-kicking Chopper in his barrel chest before he reached her. Chopper squawked, teetering and skidding, trying to slow his momentum.

Kallus grit his teeth, pressing his back to the supply crate. Blaster bolts pounded into his shelter, and hot sparks dropped across his shoulders. He looked over the edge.

AP had been driven behind the nearest docked TIE fighter by the firefight. Ezra hadn't moved from where he'd fallen. Pryce was yelling into her comlink for reinforcements. Loud thumps were coming from behind the locked hanger door. And there were two more troopers on the ramp of the recently-docked shuttle.

Wonderful.

There was a clattering sound as Pryce threw her comlink, apparently discovering the ship's lack of comm radio. Furious, she grabbed up a fallen blaster and joined the fray herself, pressing in with her two guards beside her.

Shots ripped through the crate, puncturing out the other side. Kallus scrambled away, fingers scratching at the floor to find enough purchase to get up.

Flushed from his cover, with the troopers rushing him, Kallus went on the offensive instead of remaining a sitting womp rat. He threw himself into the trio's midst, swinging for Pryce first.

She ducked under his fist and nailed him in the gut. Kallus felt the breath leave him and he stumbled back, holding his stomach.

 _Damn..._ He'd forgotten how strong she was.

The troopers had hold of him in moments, but Kallus twisted out of one's grip, slashed his arm in a hard chop to the man's neck. He went down, and Kallus turned his attention to the remaining guard.

He had to hurry; the other two from the shuttle were rushing across the room towards them, and the hanger door was starting to burn down the center from an electrosaw. Kallus could see Chopper and AP-5 teaming up to shove a large crate in front of it and block the opening.

He grappled with the Stormtrooper, jabbing sharply at the man's shins, knees, stomach, acutely aware all the while that _Pryce wasn't fighting him and was heading for_ —

Ezra turned his head with a groan. The firefight was dull cacophony in his muted, ringing ears, sounds blurring together in an incoherent mess. His whole body ached, heavy and sluggish when he moved. He blinked up from where he lay, struggling to focus his eyes.

There was a dark shape in the center of his vision and he stiffened, the breath catching in his throat as he registered short-cropped black hair and ice blue eyes burning from a woman in Imperial gray.

Ezra's heels kicked weakly, his palms and elbows scraped against the floor as he tried to move, tried to scramble backwards away from her. His limbs were like straws, unresponsive, no strength in them. Ezra fought the mud in his brain and the drugs in his system as she closed in, heaving up his torso with a burst of effort, swinging an arm around, turning himself over. His arm reached out pitifully as he tried to drag himself forward.

"Nnngggghh..." he groaned, the movement igniting painful fire in his gut.

It was a futile attempt. Pryce swooped in like a predator hawk, seizing his hair by the roots and dragging him up.

"A-Aaah!" Ezra cried.

Kallus's head whipped around at the sound, dismay on his features. He slammed the Stormtrooper in the chest with his shoulder, knocking him to the floor, kicking him square in the helmet to keep him down, reaching out a hand as Pryce jabbed the barrel of her blaster into Ezra's neck.

"Stop, _stop!_ " he yelled.

Pryce froze with a look of smug satisfaction on her face, Ezra squirming weakly in her grip.

"Don't..." Kallus said, breathing hard. He couldn't believe he was about to plead with Pryce. "...don't hurt him."

"My..." Pryce said, as the troopers from the shuttle came up to flank her from behind, "... we _have_ gotten sentimental, haven't we?"

Kallus dropped his arms in defeat. He didn't voice his other fear—that the device in Ezra's stomach might be sensitive enough to—

"It was a valiant attempt, Agent Kallus," Pryce interrupted his thoughts. "But your escape ends now." Her fingers tightened in Ezra's hair, twisting, making him wince. " _You_ are going _right_ back to Interrogation," she hissed in the boy's ear.

A stun bolt suddenly hit her from behind, square in her back. Pryce's eyes widened in shock, her body stiffening, tilting as she fell senseless.

Kallus rushed forward to catch Ezra, looking at the Stormtrooper who'd fired the stun shot in bewilderment.

The trooper removed his helmet, revealing a bearded face with scarred eyes, and Kallus's relief could have powered a starfighter.

"Jarrus..." he breathed.

* * *

(A/N)- Chapter notes!

1\. Kallus used the Persuasion Check "make Ezra out to be as innocent and helpless as possible". I mean, it would definitely work on _me,_ so...

2\. I always kind of appreciated the fact that just because Kallus switched sides he still wasn't a very _nice_ character. He was still coldly calculating and manipulative and brutal. Hard to unlearn all his Imperial ways right off the bat. So some casual Stormtrooper murder because Kallus is ruthlessly effective like that.

3\. ...Probably actually why Chopper likes him so much.

4\. The tapestry myth Thrawn muses on is made up, but I tried to make it _sound_ like something that could come out of Greek myth, a la the Gordian Knot, or Theseus in the labyrinth. The Chimaera is also a creature from Greek myth. So yes, the parallels are deliberate.

5\. Do not threaten Space Dad's kids. It will not end well.

Hope you all enjoyed!

r! And leave a review if you liked it. :)


	4. Escape

(A/N)- This story has completely taken over my brain and wound up waaaay longer than I thought I was going to be, lol. (I thought I was only gonna do, like, three chapters ha ha ha oh naive past self.)

Originally this chapter was part of the _previous_ chapter but halfway through I realized it was getting pretty long. So I made the wise decision to split it into two. This story is my baby now, and I'm gonna make sure I do things right.

With that out of the way, hang tight readers! This is where we step on the acceleration.

Disclaimer: Once again, I stupidly erased this chapter when I was making corrections, so forgive me for not remembering my original funny disclaimer.

* * *

 **Escape**

Kanan felt Ezra long before they'd exited the shuttle. His presence in the Force was blurry and muted, worryingly faint and radiating out a dull, fuzzy sense of pain.

The sounds of the firefight were already loud and raucous by the time they reached the ramp. Kanan hoped fervently that Ezra was out of the line of fire. He could hear Chopper squealing, smell the sharp tang of melting durasteel. A tinny electric whine buzzed in his ear and Rex yelled at Chopper to block the door. The troopers must have been trying to cut through it.

They beelined for the sound of the heaviest fighting. Kallus grunted—sounded like he was winded. Kanan increased speed trying to close the distance faster. How big was this hanger, surely they were at the scene now?

A sudden flare of fear spiked out from Ezra, followed by a cry of distress. The helpless sound ignited a fury inside Kanan and his blaster was raised even before his feet came to a stop.

He focused intensely through the Force, even as he desperately prayed his aim was true.

" _You_ are going _right_ back to Interrogation," a woman's voice threatened.

Kanan fired.

There was a gasp, and a thud.

Shaking, Kanan divested himself of his helmet. From behind them, he could hear the grind of Chopper's wheels as he rolled up.

 _"WUB-WUB!"_ he beeped in greeting.

"Thanks for opening up the shield gate for us, Chopper," Rex said.

Chopper buzzed proudly. His last act before unplugging from the security console and disabling communications had been to reprogram a subroutine in the hanger control system, so it would lower the docking shield automatically upon the sensed approach of a ship, bypassing the need for clearance codes. The _Chimaera_ 's system hadn't taken too fondly to that, and was already booting Chopper from access while he unplugged.

Kanan was busy kneeling down next to the quivering presence that was Ezra. Kallus's gloved hands had hold of the boy's head and shoulders, holding him off the floor, and the agent wordlessly passed him to Kanan.

The Jedi took him awkwardly. Ezra felt heavy in his mercenary armor, and his head thumped limply into Kanan's shoulder.

"Ezra," Kanan called gently. He touched a hand to his padawan's face, biting his lip at the scabs and dried blood he could feel under his fingers.

"K'nan...?" Ezra's voice sounded groggy and drunken, with a paper-thin rasp in his throat. His breathing was labored, unsteady.

Kanan sensed uncertainty from him, like he wasn't sure Kanan was real. "I'm here, Ezra," he assured the boy. "It's all right now. I've got you."

".. _.hurts._.." Ezra whined. He sounded so much like a small, broken child that Kanan forgot where he was a moment and cradled him tightly.

"I know." A solid-sounding crash at the door brought him back to the present. "Just hold on. We're getting you home."

He slipped a hand under Ezra's knees, hoisting him up as he stood.

"Gently," Kallus cautioned from his right. "He's recently had abdominal surgery."

"Surgery?" Rex repeated incredulously.

"He told me they put something inside him. I'm not sure what," the agent explained quickly.

"Let's not stay to find out." Kanan gripped Ezra a little harder, grinding his teeth as he led the way back to the shuttle. Rex barked at the droids to follow.

Just as they dashed up the ramp a cacophonous _THUD!_ came from behind, as the troopers working at the door finally managed to cut a huge piece away. The crates AP and Chopper had pushed in front of the opening still blocked their way, but a few of them fired at their backs through the hole.

Blaster bolts pinged off the shuttle. The ramp retracted behind them and Rex pushed ahead and led the way to the cockpit, Kanan slowing to avoid knocking Ezra against the walls and doorways of the shuttle.

It lurched under them as Chopper plugged in, uploading hyperspace calculations in a flash and quickstarting the engines.

Kanan couldn't help but give a sigh of relief as the sublights fired up, launching them out of the hanger and into open space.

The jerk and acceleration of lightspeed moments later had never felt better.

-SWR-

The bridge of the _Chimaera_ was a flutter of nervous anxiety and disarray when Thrawn stepped through the doors, hands clasped behind him and jaw terse, eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Comm Tech, report," he called calmly, directing his attention first to the station on his left.

"Ship's internal communications are 80 percent restored, sir," the man answered.

"Tell the technical crew to run a full systematic check of all operations; I want all Rebel spyware purged from the system," ordered Thrawn.

"Right away sir."

"Sir!" another crewmember called, finger locked on the call button on his console. "Detention Level reports two more bodies outside cell B-56!"

The hint of a frown pursed his thin lips. Kallus had certainly left quite a mess in the wake of his escape, something he found oddly... annoying.

"Grand Admiral," a Stormtrooper from behind addressed him. "Colonel Yularen is on his way up."

Even as he was speaking, Thrawn heard the colonel's voice from the hallway behind the door, loudly protesting.

"Stop your fretting, Lieutenant!" he snapped at Lyste as the door hissed to admit them. "I'm quite all right!" he insisted, batting away the lieutenant's arm with one hand while the other cradled his temple, massaging at a pounding headache.

Thrawn turned from the Stormtrooper to his officer. "Are you well, Colonel Yularen?" he asked, stepping towards him.

"He attacked me!" Yularen blurted out angrily. "My own student!"

"I believe I cautioned against going in to see him until my assessment was completed and the report from the survey team on Lothal came in," Thrawn said, nonplussed. "Please endeavor to exercise more caution next time, Colonel Yularen," he continued, feigning a vague concern.

Yularen's eyes narrowed a bit at the subtle 'I told you so', but he offered no excuse and made no comment.

"Communications restored!" announced the Comm Tech.

"Deep space sensors back online," another technician reported. He looked up from his station and made eye contact. "The signal's coming in strong, sir."

"Very good," replied Thrawn, turning away from the disheveled colonel. "Pull all camera footage and begin system check," he ordered again.

A technician at a station to the far left raised a hand, "Sir, I've got a report from squad G-19 down on the surface, they say there was a coordinated rebel incursion at the shipyards."

Thrawn stirred at that, angling in that direction to address him. "Was the survey team hindered?"

"No sir, they proceeded to the tower as ordered."

"Keep me appraised."

"Grand Admiral!" another man shouted above the chaos. "I have confirmation, Ezra Bridger is missing from Interrogation!"

"Those _fiends!_ " growled Lyste. "They've escaped!"

Thrawn stepped across the walkway to glare out the window at the glittering stars.

"They won't get far," he said, eyes narrow.

-SWR-

In contrast to the ruckus inside the _Chimaera_ , its outward appearance was peaceful. The Imperial Star Destroyers floated silently in formation outside the blue-brown planet, engines off, drifting serenely with the flow of gravity.

From around the far side of Lothal, a single lumbering ship moved out of position.

-SWR-

Hera paced in tight circles to one side of the holodisplay hub. Her lekku slapped her back in an agitated rhythm. Off to the side, Zeb waited, tapping his fingers together, elbows on his knees as he sat on a crate.

The communication terminal beeped to indicate a call and everyone looked up, every head turned in that direction as Hera lunged for the button, several pilots and crew rushing to gather around.

"Kanan?" Hera asked, almost shrilly, as soon as the line was open.

 _"We've got him,"_ Kanan told her. _"Both of them."_

Tension deflated out of Hera and her shoulders loosened with an exhale. _Thank the stars_ , she thought. "How is he?" she breathed, as she felt Zeb coming to stand by her shoulder.

 _"Not great, but recovering. But there's a problem."_

"What kind of problem?" Hera asked warily, picking up the noises in the background. It sounded like Kallus and Rex were having an argument.

 _"Heading two point eight and then—"_

 _"I know what I'm doing,"_ the old clone trooper snapped. _"This isn't my first clown show."_

 _"That device could go off any moment and you want to risk the base by taking Ezra straight to it?!"_

 _"If it's remote-detonation it won't matter **where** we take him."_

 _" **Farther away** would be better!"_ the agent insisted.

 _"The Imps put some kind of object in him,"_ Kanan spoke over the two. _"Kallus thinks it's an explosive."_

Zeb straightened to attention. "I'll get Sabine on the other line," he volunteered, moving off towards the terminal mounted on the wall of the nearby coral overhang.

 _"Can you have Dr. Leslynn standing by?"_ Kanan asked. _"Ezra's in rough shape. Pretty sure they tortured him."_

"I'll let her know," Hera promised, clenching her jaw tersely. When she got her hands on Thrawn... "Chopper and AP?"

 _"No worse for wear. Chopper's eager to get his old paint back, as usual."_ Kanan paused a moment, then added cheekily. _"How are **you** doing?"_

Hera smiled faintly. "Ask me again when you're all back home."

 _"What do you **mean** something happened on the mission to retrieve Fulcrum?!" _ Sabine's voice burst out from behind them, suddenly loud. Her wavering holo image leaned to one side as if to peer past Zeb. _"What happened? Where's Ezra?"_

"Calm down," Zeb said, holding up his hands to placate her. "He's safe now. But they put something in him. Kallus thinks it's a bomb; he doesn't want to bring it here," he explained. _An' I don't blame 'im_ , Zeb thought, remembering the nasty business with the warhead-carrying Imperial probe droid. "Think ya can take a look at it, tell us how t' diffuse it?"

 _"Well, depends."_ Sabine's expression was still tight with concern, but her shoulders relaxed a bit. _"You got the schematics for me?"_

Zeb turned towards where Hera was waiting.

"Uh, schematics?"

There was a rustle of noise on the open channel, and voices conferred in a low murmur.

Kanan's voice returned. "Chopper has a scan," he said. "We're patching it through."

The holodisplay flickered to life as the data came through. Zeb flicked a switch on his console station to transfer the image to his terminal, and then to Sabine.

Sabine leaned forward, peering intently at the wireframe holo, squinting hard. _"That's... not an explosive,"_ she said. She took a closer look, a dawning realization spreading across her face. _"That's an S-35 ChandrilTech **tracking device**!"_ she cried, eyes widening and reeling back in alarm.

"KARABAST!" Zeb cursed.

"Zeb?" Hera called in worry.

"They _tagged_ him!" the Lasat yelled, furious.

Cold horror hit the pit of all of their stomachs.

-SWR-

The three men were frozen stiff in the cockpit a moment.

Kallus was the first to recover, stirring from his place standing behind the pilot's chair.

"Drop out of hyperspace," he told Rex. "Drop out now!"

Rex started. "Right!" he blurted, hands leaping to the controls, pulling the level.

The blue tunnel of hyperspace dissolved into long white streaks and then the pinpoints of stars as the ship lurched out of lightspeed.

As it jerked to a slow hover, they all collectively held their breath, petrified with dread.

-SWR-

"Sir?" The Imperial officer addressed the Grand Admiral on the walkway above him. "Konstantine reports the shuttle has dropped out of hyperspace."

Thrawn glanced away from the window. "Tell him: Pursue at a distance, but do not engage," he said. "And have the navigation data imported to my office and charted to Imperial starmaps." He turned from the bridge, striding calmly across the walkway towards the door.

So. They'd found his little surprise. Earlier than expected, but no matter. The navigation data beamed out to them from the tracking device would still prove invaluable.

And now he'd trapped the Rebels in a conundrum. They couldn't return, and they couldn't move forward. Anywhere they went, the tracking device would betray them. Even without capturing them directly, he had them essentially prisoner. Thrawn was just a little bit excited to see Hera Syndulla's next move. Would she risk the base? Risk herself? She would hardly abandon the boy, or her Jedi lover, so her next tactical decision was bound to be reckless, made out of emotion.

He allowed himself a private smile of satisfaction.

 _Let's see what their next move is._

-SWR-

The tension was thick inside the shuttle.

There was nothing on their scopes yet, but they couldn't shake the eerie feeling that they were being watched.

Kanan had his eyes closed and senses up, seeking out signs of pursuit, eddies in the Force.

"Well this a real gravity sink," Rex deadpanned. "Now what do we do?"

Chopper piped up with a suggestion.

"Weren't you paying any attention? The Empire's tracking us, taking a few extra hyperspace detours won't help," Rex said, shooting the droid a withering look.

Chopper beeped what sounded like a sheepish, _Oh._

"Could buy us some time," Kanan considered, coming back to normal. "Give us space to think up a plan that won't compromise the base."

"If it isn't already compromised," said Kallus, spitting the words out gruffly.

"What do you mean?" asked Rex, turning in the pilot's chair.

Kallus smeared a hand down his face in frustration. "I didn't get a chance to tell Ezra before they uncovered him," he sighed. "Thrawn has a map. He's narrowed the possible locations of the base to eleven planets."

"Would have been great to know that _before_ we jumped into hyperspace," Rex snarked.

"I'm sorry, I assumed we were going to be careful and _not_ go _directly there!_ " Kallus exclaimed, voice pitching higher with stress.

Kanan shook his head. "We can't exactly walk into any old med center." He looked toward the comlink speaker. "You getting this, Hera?"

 _"I'm getting it,"_ she replied. _"Hang on a moment, lemme get ahold of Ryder."_

She went silent on the other end for a moment.

Kallus glanced over to the backseat they had propped Ezra into. He seemed to be resting easily for the moment, slightly slumped and breathing steadily, eyes closed. The sedatives were probably catching up with him. Kallus shuddered to think what would have happened if Ezra hadn't fought them for as long as he did. Then they wouldn't have known about the tracking device at all, carried it with them blindly straight to the Rebel base.

Not that the situation was much improved.

"Isn't there anyone? Anyone friendly to the Rebellion we could go to?" he asked, voice strained.

"None close by," Rex answered. "Unless you wanna drop in on the black market on Garel."

 _"Ugh, no thanks,"_ Hera dismissed, piping up over the channel again. _"They'd sooner take Ezra's kidneys out than remove that tracker for us."_ The line clicked. _"How do the skies look, Ryder?"_

 _"Captain Syndulla,"_ came the former governor in acknowledgement. _"One of the ships vanished from orbit just a little while ago."_

"Probably tailing us," Kanan mused darkly.

 _"We hit the shipyards pretty hard, like you wanted, caused lots of sparks, but they don't seem to be paying us much attention."_ Ryder muttered his next words, almost grumbling. _"Too busy prowling around the old communications tower outside Capital City."_

A jolt of ice shot through Kallus and his head whipped around. "What did he say?" he asked frantically.

 _"The tower. They've got Stormtroopers and technicians crawling all over it,"_ Ryder repeated.

His lungs felt tight and Kallus almost staggered, gripping the back of the copilot's seat until his nails dented the leather.

"Scuttle the base," he ordered.

The other two men glanced askance at him.

"What?" Rex said.

"Scuttle the base, scuttle _everything_ ," Kallus insisted, eyes wide, reaching to grab handfuls of Kanan's collar. "I make Fulcrum transmissions from that tower. There's broadcasting equipment in there—they're trying to turn it on," he explained in a breathless rush. "If they trace the signal, Thrawn will have enough information to know _exactly_ where you are." His heart threatened to pound right out of his chest. "You _have_ to escape, now!"

Kanan felt the man's fear through the Force, angled his own head. "Hera?" he called.

 _"...I'll give the evacuation order,"_ she decided. _"Kanan, there's a small uncharted asteroid and debris field just two clicks off your starboard bow. I'll bring Dr. Leslynn and meet you there."_

 _"Hera, what's going on?!"_ came Sabine. Even faint and in the background, her voice was shrill and full of panic. _"What's happening?!"_

 _"No time to talk, Sabine. Just focus on your own mission."_

 _"But—"_

 _"I'll contact you later with the details,"_ Hera cut her off. _"Kanan, get going!"_ she ordered.

She disconnected.

Kanan blew out a long breath, then straightened.

"Well, you heard her."

Rex's hands became a flurry of motion. "Chopper, scan ahead for that debris field. And let us know if the scopes pick up that missing cruiser."

 _"WUB!"_ Chopper acknowledged.

Kallus let go of Kanan's collar and staggered back, dropping weak-kneed into the other backseat. He put his face in his hands miserably, cursing himself a thousand times over. Why hadn't he considered that the Grand Admiral would immediately look into his whereabouts and activities once it was discovered he was Fulcrum? Of course he would have made the connection between Kallus's Fulcrum transmissions and the defunct communications tower Ezra had called home. Like a blasted nerfhead he had practically painted a target on it! Why hadn't he used somewhere less familiar and sentimental?!

All his caution, all his efforts, undone by such an obvious oversight.

A cold shudder ran through his body.

He'd led Thrawn right to them.

-SWR-

A smile of satisfaction was on the Grand Admiral's thin blue lips. His eyes tracked the orange line of the shuttle's course greedily. The path of the shuttle had been extrapolated from the pulses sent out by the tracking beacon, and as per his orders was overlaid on his map of possible systems.

They had veered off course sharply just a moment ago, Konstantine had reported. That way lay only deserted systems and asteroid fields; likely they were attempting to hide.

Delightfully, however, there were only three planets in the path of their original route. Two of which were marked as possible locations for the Rebel base.

And once the trace on Agent Kallus's Fulcrum channel was completed, which—his subordinates had assured him—would only be a matter of moments, it would be down to one.

"This has turned out better than I expected," he remarked lightly to his company. "Ezra Bridger gave up his secrets after all."

Seated across from him, Yularen looked at the wall uncomfortably, and Governor Pryce rubbed the sore spot in her shoulder where the stun bolt had caused her muscles to seize up.

"You might have forewarned me you were going to let Bridger go," she complained.

"The tracking device was a precaution," Thrawn corrected, folding his hands behind him. "An attempt by the Rebels to rescue Bridger was inevitable, and they could not be allowed to take him without dooming themselves in return. I merely took preemptive initiative to account for such an eventuality," he dismissed. His gaze narrowed in on Yularen. "Although... I did not anticipate the ease with which Agent Kallus was permitted to escape."

Yularen rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "He caught me off guard. And I... may have been softer on him than I should have been," he admitted reluctantly.

"Yes, I suspect Agent Kallus was rather... persuasive in that regard," Thrawn commented coolly. "He used your sentiments against you, played on your history together to portray himself as little threat." No hint of actual accusation colored his tone, but Yularen still felt distinctly put on the spot.

He hastened to defend himself with a snarky, "He told me some very interesting things about how you were handling Bridger."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"He said you used the Brisney-Favvin on him," Yularen accused the Chiss hotly.

The red eyes did not blink, and Thrawn's face didn't even flinch. "I use whatever tools I am given, Colonel Yularen," he replied impassively.

"Surely you can't be serious."

"I will not deny it."

"There are _rules_ , Thrawn!" Yularen burst out, suddenly angry and glaring. "The Senate has clear guidelines and procedures for where, when, and how that interrogation method is to be used! You can't just dole it out whenever you please!" He punctuated his words with a solid fist thump on the desk. "You could have _killed_ him!"

"So what?" Pryce gave a dismissive shrug and a huff. "What great loss would that be? He's a rebel."

"He's a _child!_ " Yularen growled, rounding on her.

"A very _dangerous_ child, I remind you, with a long list of crimes against the Empire," Thrawn said tersely, his jaw stiff. "Don't let his relative youth fool you, Yularen, or make you forget that."

Yularen simmered down at the scolding, but his surly look remained.

A little brighter now, Thrawn added, "Enhanced methods of interrogation has proven to be quite effective in the past. Given the nature of the boy's importance within the hierarchy of Phoenix Squadron, I feel no need to justify employing harsher procedures on him."

The Colonel wondered if Thrawn noticed the irony in that he had, in fact, just attempted to justify himself. "And was it effective?" he asked casually. "What secrets did Bridger reveal?"

There was a flash of hideous rage behind Thrawn's eyes for a moment, and every muscle in him stiffened and bristled. For a split second Yularen wondered fearfully if Thrawn was going to throw himself across the desk to throttle him.

The moment passed, the Grand Admiral regaining his composure. "Do remember your place, Colonel Yularen. This is my ship, and I will not have you undermining my authority while you are onboard," Thrawn warned him.

"Understood, sir," Yularen replied, dropping his eyes.

A light beeped on the console, interrupting their debate. Thrawn looked down at the incoming message, and his smile returned.

"The survey team has the coordinates." He adjusted the hem of his sleeve, speaking up to the Stormtrooper guards in the room. "Prepare the fleet for departure," he said, beginning to make his way towards the door.

"Grand Admiral," Pryce called, standing up with an anxious look as Thrawn passed her. "What about Agent Kallus and Ezra Bridger?"

"Konstantine will bring in that catch." The Stormtroopers moved to flank him as he stepped into the antechamber. "Don't fret, Governor Pryce," he told her, velvet voice soothing. "They won't escape."

-SWR-

Pounding feet rushed across the dusty sand of Atollon as metal latches clamped, bolts were unscrewed, and crates were hefted onto hoverlifts and rolled quickly aboard anything that could carry them. A low, blaring alarm sounded across the base.

 _"General alert, evacuate the base... General alert, evacuate the base..."_ the prerecorded order played over the speakers, repeating often, echoing across the hollow.

Hera heaved a carton of rations onto a hoverlift. "That's the last of it," she said, stepping back, touching her hand briefly to the pilot's back. "Go!"

He nodded and took off running. Two others rushed up to grab the handlebar of the lift and whisk it away. Hera looked past the running bodies to spot the purple form of a Lasat.

"Zeb?" she shouted at him.

He yanked the fuel clamp off an empty cylinder and sent it rolling away with a kick. "The _Ghost_ is fueled and ready for take-off!" he told her.

Hera jabbed a thumb towards the ramp. "Get the engines running, I'll get Dr. Leslynn!"

She sprinted off, lekku flying behind her as she dashed under the overhang and took a sharp left turn into the nearest carved out cave entrance. She squeezed her way past a group of A-wing pilots going the other way and emerged into a larger chamber, almost ninety percent deconstructed and divested of Rebel equipment.

Her eyes searched, darting from corridor to corridor before she found the right one and darted down it.

Two doors down Hera swung around into the base's makeshift medical bay, where a silver-blonde-haired woman and her two aides were frantically packing up medical devices.

"Leslynn!" Hera called her. "What's the bare minimum you need to perform abdominal surgery and remove a foreign object?" she yelled.

"Uh..." Green eyes darted anxiously about the room. "I can get a basic kit together..."

"Box it up and come with me," Hera said, moving to grab the tools off a tray and throw them in an open crate. "You're coming on the _Ghost_."

Leslynn didn't question the order, just went around the room grabbing miscellaneous things and tossing them in a durasteel briefcase.

As soon as she'd flipped the latches, Hera grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the door.

The two women ran through the cavern corridors. Hera's comlink buzzed when they reached the antechamber.

 _"Phoenix Leader—"_ It was Wedge. _"—all starfighters are in the air. Where are you?"_

"Don't wait for us!" Hera yelled into the comlink. "Just get going!"

Thrawn could be on them at any minute. Even if the full strength of their planned Lothal liberation fleet was not gathered, Hera knew the location of Phoenix Squadron's main base of operations was too tempting a target, and Thrawn would be hastening to cut off their escape. Especially now that the Rebels were alerted and aware of how close he was to finding them.

Even the Grand Admiral could only watch and wait patiently for so long. Much as Hera wished he'd continue to sit back and observe them, biding his time in order to lay the perfect trap for _all_ of them, she knew he couldn't allow them to simply move to a new base, start the process all over again. Now, it was time for him to act.

So they just had to be quicker than him.

The dull orange sunlight hit her face, making her squint, as she and Dr. Leslynn made it outside into open air.

Hera glanced at the holodisplay as they ran past it, counting the number of Rebel ships still in orbit. She frowned, bringing the comlink to her lips.

"Commander Sato, tell those Hammerheads to quit stalling, and get that carrier into hyperpsace!"

 _"Not until the last transport is away, Captain Syndulla,"_ Sato replied stubbornly.

"There's no time!"

 _"Commander! We have incoming ships!"_ someone in the background of the call shouted.

Sato quickly reevaluated. _"Heading point five seven, P1. Fighter Squad A, follow them!"_ he ordered.

Hera's head whipped back over her shoulder one last time, relieved to see a few blips disappear from the display.

Zeb was waiting on the ramp to user them in.

They made it inside the _Ghost_ just as the first Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace.

* * *

(A/N)- Chapter notes!

1\. The _Chimaera_ is a bit like a housewife, she'll be nice and accommodating if you're respectful of her space but the minute you start rifling through her things and messing them up she's like: "HEY!" and kicks you out.

2\. The callback to Kanan's Arc Words "I've got you." was very deliberate because I'm a masochist and I love pain.

3\. I know you were wanting and waiting for Sabine to be involved in things, guest reviewer "Bob", so here she is, and we'll see more of her. But I can't say any more because spoilers. ;)

4\. ChandrilTech is another Legends corporation, primarily known for handheld sensors. Figured small tracking beacons weren't out of the realm of their capabilities. (Whenever possible I like to ground the story in familiar Star Wars facts and trivia, no matter how obscure. Just in case there are readers out there who are bigger Star Wars nerds than me.)

5\. Kallus continues to be Eternally Stressed, which was pretty much my favorite part of "Through Imperial Eyes". (Well, that and Ezra in his spiffy officer's uniform.)

6\. Thrawn has three Berserk Buttons: denigrating or insulting art, xenophobic bigotry, and—I strongly suspect—people throwing his plans out of whack or somehow behaving contrary to what he expected. I make the argument for the last one based on his barely-contained irritation at Konstantine defying orders and wrecking the Interdictor in "Zero Hour". So because I wanted Thrawn to lose his cool at least once in this fic, Yularen hits on this third button by reminding Thrawn that Ezra didn't break under torture like he was fully expecting. Serves ya right, ya blue bastard.

The action continues in the next chapter!


	5. Baited

(A/N)- *cackles as she drops chapter*

Hello there dear readers! Sorry about the wait, we were packing for a move. Got everything mostly boxed up now, decided to take a break and work on the climax for this baby.

Surprise surprise, it was initially supposed to contain the _whole_ climax and only be one chapter but with all the comings and goings and the little character moments I wanted to include and the dramatic pacing I _had_ to include to make everything flow together, it would up being too long and I had to split it.

Story of this fic right there.

AnyWAY I will let you get to it. Wear your seatbelts accordingly, it's a bumpy ride.

Disclaimer: Hi Disney, hello. Please don't sue me. I just like to play with Star Wars characters in my spare time.

* * *

 **Baited**

A heavy barrage rocked the _Ghost_ , and Hera yanked hard on the yoke to swing them up and around the blaster fire. Up in the top turret, Zeb was pounding away, spewing shots at the TIE pursuit; Hera could feel the vibrations through the floor.

 _"We're getting shredded out here!"_ Hobbie's panicked voice screeched over the comms.

 _"Maintain formation, Phoenix Seven,"_ Wedge told him. _"Boost thrusters and bank hard left, I'll get you an opening to jump."_

 _"None of us will be getting an opening if we don't take out that Interdictor,"_ Sato reminded them.

Hera flipped the switch to feed more energy to her forward deflector shields. "Phoenix Eight, Phoenix Three, turn to point three-five and stay on my wings. I'm going for those gravity wells."

Her hands gripped the steering yoke tightly, her eyes focusing out the viewport and narrowing in on the smaller, sleeker shape of the Imperial Interdictor, nestled in the center of the formation and holding them there.

She slowly drove the yoke forward, increasing and increasing speed. TIEs screamed after her and the turret gun pounded away. The Interdictor grew bigger and bigger in her window.

 _"Hera..."_ Zeb called nervously, as the starship loomed before them.

The Twi'lek grit her teeth, opening fire from the cockpit turbolasers. Following her lead, Zeb and the two A-wings turned their guns on the Interdictor, aiming for the heavy-shielded gravity wells.

Red blaster bolts pounded into the shield, raising blue afterspots. The Interdictor's own cannons were firing back at them now. The smaller A-wings veered but Hera kept the _Ghost_ on its path, taking the pummeling head on and continuing to unleash volleys into the same spot.

 _C'mon, c'mon..._ Hera thought, straining through the bright flashes to see what effect, if any, her barrage was having on the shield. She thought she could see the beginnings of a crack, opening up and spreading. If she just focused a little more fire...

 _"Phoenix Leader, pull up!"_ came a shrill voice in her ear, Hera couldn't tell who, she was tunnel-visioned on the gravity wells, almost didn't see the TIE fighter screeching up at her.

With a long snarl of frustration Hera finally yanked back on the yoke, swooping out of her dive, bringing the fighter into her crosshairs. A couple quick shots with the turbolaser and the TIE was fire and spinning metal parts, careening straight towards them along with a deadly green volley of laser bolts from one of the Interdictor's surface cannons.

Hera jerked the ship hard left.

Something sheered into the _Ghost_ , tearing through the right side. There was a horrendous scraping and rending of metal as the forward deflectors gave out and let debris scratch across the freighter's hull, and Hera's eyes squeezed closed as she climbed and climbed and prayed the ship would hold together.

-SWR-

A lull, almost relaxed sense of calm had fallen upon the occupants of the shuttle. They were in the shadow of a large asteroid, engines idling. Ezra dozed peacefully in his seat. Kanan conferred with AP-5 and Chopper in the back. Rex fidgeted in the pilot's chair.

Kallus hadn't raised his head once. He felt ashamed even being there. Any minute he expected an ambush to come careening around the corner of the asteroid.

But thus far they were remarkably undisturbed.

Kallus knew better than to hope that it was anything but the quiet before the storm.

Kanan's bootsteps finally made him glance up. The Jedi stepped into the cockpit, addressing Rex.

"Any word from Hera?" he asked.

"Can't get a signal," Rex said, shaking his head. "Think they're being jammed."

The Jedi's lips pursed slightly, but after a moment he said confidently, "She'll make it out."

Rex grunted, then turned his attention to the dashboard. "Better make contingency plans, just in case," he muttered, his fingers flitting over the buttons, programming in hyperspace coordinates.

Kallus heard the shift in Kanan's stance that let him know the man had turned to face him. Reluctantly, he met the Jedi's gaze, and was surprised to find that it was warm and kind.

"Didn't get a chance to say it earlier, but... thank you," Kanan said. He nodded towards the sleeping teen. "For what you did for Ezra, getting him out."

"A lot of good it's done," Kallus moaned. "Breaking him free only so Thrawn can ensnare him again, and catch the rest of you along with him. I've only put everyone in danger."

Kanan shrugged. "Well, the day's not over yet," he said, his voice brightly optimistic, moving to take a seat.

A light on the dash pinged.

Rex straightened to attention. "Incoming ship," he relayed.

"Imperial?" asked Kallus, tension tightening in his stomach.

"No..." Rex replied. He studied the display for a moment, then broke into a grin. "It's the _Ghost_. Hera made it."

"What'd I tell you?" Kanan joked, voice ringing with pride for his Twi'lek companion.

"I'll move us out from around this rock," Rex said, taking hold of the controls. "I assume you'll want the kid on the _Ghost_?" he checked with Kanan, who nodded.

"It's not the best place for impromptu surgery but it's roomier than the shuttle, at least," he confirmed.

Rex eased the shuttle out of the shadow of the asteroid, facing it towards the edge of the debris field and clear space.

The _Ghost_ dropped out of hyperspace and the old clone's eyes widened, and Kallus stiffened and gripped the back of Rex's seat.

"Holy..." Rex trailed off, observing the gaping jagged holes in the freighter's starboard hull. The airlock door on that side appeared to have been torn clean off.

"What?" asked Kanan, glancing around in confusion.

"Uh..." Rex couldn't find words to describe the damage and so just waved off Kanan's concern. "Never mind. Go ahead, I'll dock and get the airlock open."

Kanan looked like he wanted to press the issue for a moment, frowning at the clone trooper's deflection, but decided to let it go. He leaned down next to his padawan's seat, gently shaking the boy by the shoulder. "Ezra," he called.

"Nnn?" came his groggy response, as he stirred and blinked his eyes.

"Sorry Ezra, I know you're trying to rest," Kanan told him. "But Hera's here. We gotta move to the _Ghost_ now."

"'kay..." he replied tiredly, making a sluggish effort to get up.

Kanan helped him, pulled him up from the seat carefully. Once on his own feet, Ezra seemed to do a little better, though his movements were still awkward and blundering. Master hung on to padawan as Kanan maneuvered them towards the back of the shuttle.

Kallus rose from his own seat, watching them in concern. "Do you need any help?" he asked Kanan, hands hovering close to Ezra's other arm in case the boy slipped out of his master's grip.

"I've got him," Kanan assured him, feeling out carefully with his free hand for the walls.

The agent trailed along behind them anyway, unsure where else he could be useful. Kanan navigated the shuttle remarkably well for a blind man. Kallus hadn't wanted to ask about it before and now seemed like an inappropriate time, but he _would_ have to get that story eventually.

 _They've changed so much_... came his thought, unbidden.

The shuttle docked with the _Ghost_ easily enough, and Chopper was the first through the door when it opened. Hera appeared at top of the ramp and ran past him as he rolled by, rushing to meet them, worry in her eyes.

"Ezra..." She reached to cup his face with both hands, exhaling heavily as she took him in. "Oh stars... what did they do to you?"

"'m'okay Hera," Ezra mumbled, as Hera took him off Kanan's hands, leaning him heavily against her side.

"Let's get that tracker out of you," she determined firmly, already steering them up the ramp. Kallus and Kanan followed after her, Kanan brushing his hand along the familiar wall of the hallway.

He stopped suddenly, his hand touching something unexpected. Solid metal, where an opening should be. He frowned in confusion.

"Hera?" he called after her. "Why's this section of the ship sealed off?"

Hera blanched with a mortified look of embarrassment. "I'll... tell you later," she said, hastily. "Leslynn!" she shouted up the ship's rear ladder. "Where d'you want him?"

The young doctor descended the rungs quickly. "We've got a cot set up at the back of the living area, near the kitchen door. It's not much but it'll do."

Even wrangling Ezra between them, Kallus found himself hard-pressed to keep up with the two women, who had the boy up the ramp and out of his immediate sight faster than he'd thought possible. Kallus paused halfway up the ramp, letting Kanan pass him and go first. He was a bit at a loss. This was his first time on the _Ghost_ and he didn't quite know where to go, and he didn't want to upset his hosts by wandering off.

He followed the others up the ramp.

Kallus emerged into the junction between a small hallway and a darkened living area. Hera, Kanan, and Dr. Leslynn were leading Ezra to the cot—a rickety, threadbare thing it looked, hardly a proper medical table—and Ezra fell into it gratefully the moment he was within range. Kanan's hands fumbled around a moment before he found a chair, and pulled it up next to his padawan's bedside.

Zeb and Chopper were both hovering, sliding out from the corners of the room, drawn to their youngest Spectre like a magnet. As Kallus stepped into the room, Zeb's eyes looked up and met his.

Both men nodded, a silent _Glad to see you're not dead._ Kallus began to smile.

Something rocked the _Ghost_ , jostling them, startling everyone.

An alarm sounded throughout the ship and Rex's voice came in over the comlink.

 _"Hera! TIE fighters! Three of 'em!"_

The Twi'lek pilot spun on her heel, shoving past Kallus and barreling towards the cockpit, growling curses under her breath. Alarmed, the agent rushed after her.

Hera flung herself into the pilot's chair and was immediately pulling switches to boost power to deflectors. "Keep 'em off my tail, Rex, I'm gonna need a few moments to make the calculations for the jump to lightspeed!" she ordered.

 _"On it!"_

-SWR-

The _Ghost_ took a hard turn, banking out of the firing arc of the nearest TIE fighter, cutting so close to one of its brothers they almost collided. The Imperial pilot barrel-rolled out of range, coming about and joining the other two in hot pursuit. They drove forward, pressing the attack, barely even flinching when the shuttle dropped in behind them and opened fire.

-SWR-

Dr. Leslynn had wanted to ask Hera what she should do—abdominal surgery was hard enough without doing it during the middle of a dogfight—but all she managed was a panicked, "Uh—" before the pilot was already gone. Leslynn stood awkwardly a moment or two, paralyzed with indecision.

It took a grunted comment from Chopper to bring her out of it.

"Yes," she said, coming to her wits quickly. "Yes of course. We'll go ahead and try."

She shooed the droid and the Lasat away from where they crowded her patient, pulling her briefcase of supplies out and opening it on the tray next to the cot.

The ship took a hit, jostling the room and making her case slide. Leslynn's hand snapped out and caught it before it toppled off her tray.

She took in a deep breath. Collecting herself, she tried to be professional and go through the routine like normal.

"Would you like something for your pain?" she asked Ezra.

"Not s'moxin..." he mumbled. "'llergic..."

Leslynn frowned at the little bottle in her hand. "That's... all I managed to grab," she told him, disappointed. "I'm sorry." She turned back to her meager supplies. "It'll have to be general anesthesia then," she said, reaching for a small glass syringe.

Ezra was suddenly agitated, pushing back with his heels, batting away unseen arms.

"No nee'les!" he cried. His voice had a shrill edge to it. "Don' stick me! I don' want—"

His breaths were short. He cast about for something familiar.

"Kanan!"

Kanan grabbed up one of his padawan's flailing hands, squeezing it tightly to anchor him. He didn't have to see the haunted look in Ezra's eyes to know that, mentally, he was back in the interrogation chamber, with Imperials pumping him full of sedatives and poisons.

"It's all right, Ezra. I'm right here. Just breathe," he told the boy.

Ezra struggled to calm down, reality intermixing with memories, confusing him, making him forget where he was.

He could almost see the sneering face of Pryce standing above him.

The _Ghost_ shuddered with another strong hit.

-SWR-

"Blast it!" Rex cursed, punching the dashboard in frustration as the TIE fighter slipped away from him. _Again._

The sides of the hull were straining and the sublights pushed to their brink. The starcraft whined in protest. Rex kept up as intense and steady a continuous stream of fire as he could.

But a shuttle couldn't hope to match the speed and maneuverability of a starfighter. What help he could provide Hera was limited, and the _Ghost_ and her pursuers were all rapidly escaping his range.

And there was another worry nagging at the back of his mind. TIEs didn't get out into the middle of space on their own.

 _Where's their transport?_ he worried, checking the scopes over and over as he desperately tried to keep pace with Hera.

-SWR-

"Ezra! You're _safe!_ " Kanan growled, squeezing his hand tighter.

Ezra didn't seem to have heard him, or else, didn't believe him, thrashing in place as Zeb pressed down on him.

"C'mon kid, don't do this!" Zeb begged, trying to hold him still.

Leslynn tried to approach again, hoping to jab him quickly and get it overwith, only for Ezra to panic harder.

"No!" he screeched, back arching under Zeb's hold. "Geddoff!"

"Zeb, let go," Kanan ordered quickly, feeling the situation worsen the more the Lasat tried to pin him down.

Zeb lifted his hands, backing away, his face twisted with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry," he whispered helplessly.

He backed off towards the far end of the room as Kanan focused on getting his padawan under control.

Leslynn dropped her syringe on the tray, wringing her hands in her hair.

Chopper rolled up a little closer. _"WUB WUB-WUB WUUB,"_ he suggested. Helpfully, he probably thought.

" _Without_ anesthetic, don't be ridiculous!" Leslynn snapped at him, shooting the idea down at once. "I have no idea how deep they buried that device in him! It could be wrapped around his spine for all we know!"

Less helpfully, Chopper commented again.

"I _know_ we need to think of something!" the doctor cried, flinching as the ship rocked again. Her green eyes wrinkled. This was entirely too much stress and frustration than she'd been prepared to deal with.

The ship's internal comms crackled to life. _"What's the hold up down there?"_ Hera's voice came in, sharply, demanding.

Taking her hands out of her hair, Leslynn grabbed up her comlink with a tired groan.

"Ezra can't have the painkillers we brought and he won't be put under, he's refusing the sedatives," she explained into it.

 _"We need that tracker out of him, Leslynn!"_

"I know! I just—" Leslynn checked herself, glancing towards her patient as something caught her attention. "Hang on," she said, turning to watch what was happening. "I think Kanan's trying something," she told Hera.

Kanan had Ezra's face turned towards him, and was speaking in a firm but gentle tone.

"Breathe. Focus," he instructed. "Feel the Force moving around you. Feel it moving through you. Focus on my voice."

Ezra's eyes were fixated on his master's face, deliriously, and his chest slowly labored into a more even keel, Ezra deliberately taking deeper and deeper breaths. They came shudderingly at first, but gradually turned smoother.

"That's it," Kanan encouraged. "Breathe."

Ezra's heartrate calmed. His body relaxed as he felt the Force flowing into him. The warmth curled around his limbs, banishing the phantoms, banishing all thought.

He let it fill him, let it dull away all sensations.

Leslynn watched in fascination as Ezra's eyes closed and he seemed to slip into some kind of meditative trance. He and Kanan seemed to synchronize their breathing, a quiet bubble of peace in the midst of all the chaos. She almost felt caught up in it too, just watching Ezra's chest rise and fall softly.

After a moment, Kanan called out to her.

"Doctor."

She shook herself. "Right," she said, coming back to the present.

Nervously, she picked up her surgical shears and took up position, sitting partway on the cot next to her patient, pushing up his tattered shirt to reveal the Imperial interrogators' most recent work.

With shaking fingers, she began to snip through the first of the stitches.

-SWR-

The TIEs were still buzzing their afterburners. Kallus felt them take a hit that had his teeth rattling inside his head. He hoped the inside living area was better buffered against the attacks. He'd hate to see how much harder the Rebels' doctor would have to compensate.

His eyes noticed something flashing on the console.

"You're losing rear deflectors," he pointed out.

Hera just growled in response, feeding even more power from non-critical systems. He could have imagined it, but it seemed like the air in the cockpit dropped slightly in temperature.

"Rex! Where's my cover fire?" Hera yelled.

 _"I'm at full power,"_ he told her. _"They're moving too fast! The shuttle can't keep up!"_

Hera grabbed the yoke and swerved sharply, nearly upending Kallus's footing. He grabbed the corner of one of the chairs, holding himself steady, catching a glimpse of one TIE zooming past the front viewport.

He started when Hera turned towards him.

"You know how to shoot from a turret?" she asked him, firm glare shooting over her shoulder.

Kallus swallowed. "Well enough," he answered nervously. Her expression was something frightening.

Hera jerked her head to the right. "Ladder to the nose gun right there. And tell Zeb to take the top turret," she said. "You wanna prove yourself to the Rebellion, this is the time."

She didn't need to tell him twice.

-SWR-

The air was definitely chillier out in the hallway.

Kallus didn't have to search long for Zeb. He found the Lasat sitting on his hindquarters, just outside the living area, back to the closed door, head in his hands.

The agent slowed as he approached him, sensing the turmoil within the Lasat, the roiling cauldron of emotions.

Zeb glanced up at him from between his fingers, expression agonized.

"Tell me th' kid's gonna be okay," he said, almost pleading.

Kallus shook his head. "That remains to be seen, I'm afraid," he told Zeb grimly.

Zeb groaned, rocking his head in his hands. "We shouldn'ta sent 'im," he said miserably. "He didn't wanna go in the first place."

"It's not your fault, Zeb," Kallus tried to console him.

Zeb lifted his head, voice quaking with soft anger, making agitated gestures as he spoke. "I'm the one who asked Hera to spring the mission! I convinced her we needed to get you out. That it was worth the risk."

Kallus stepped closer, reaching down to put a hand on Zeb's large shoulder. "And Ezra knew the risk and took the mission anyway," he said. He knew all too well the kind of self-blaming thoughts that must've been running through Zeb's head, but the ship was still rocking and shaking from the continued TIE attacks so both of them would need to set that aside for the moment.

Zeb's eyes were on the floor.

"Should've been me," he muttered.

"Because that wouldn't have been conspicuous," Kallus commented dryly. He squeezed the Lasat's shoulder. "Come on," he said, extending a hand. "Pull yourself together. Hera needs us."

Zeb exhaled heavily, then took the offered hand.

Pulling him up to a stand, Kallus pointed up the ladder towards the turret, then turned to go back towards the cockpit and the ladder Hera had said led to the nose gun.

"By the way," Zeb called after him, rubbing his head. "It's good to see you. Y'know, in one piece."

Kallus nodded. "Let's hope we stay that way," he replied, rushing to go take up his spot.

-SWR-

Hera barely noticed Kallus as he zipped down the ladder, maneuvering the _Ghost_ around a stray chunk of rock from the debris field. Clear space was ahead of them. All she needed was for Rex and Zeb and Kallus to hold the TIE fighters off long enough for her to get a moment to program the coordinates.

The nose and top turrets both ratcheted up, coming to life and chucking blaster bolts at their pursuit. Hera evened her ship out, one hand straying from the yoke, flying across the buttons on the console rapidly.

Her pause earned the freighter another hard hit off the port side. Hera could hear rattling from all the way in the kitchen where a few cupboards banged open, spilling their contents.

She bit her lip.

"C'mon girl, you've taken worse than this," she begged, her eyes not leaving the keypad. Almost complete. Almost...

-SWR-

The handles felt large and clunky in his hands. The configuration of the nose turret was staggeringly different from those used by the Empire, looser and more open, and it had been some time since Kallus had actually fired any ship's guns personally.

But within a few moments he was starting to get the hang of it.

 _"Coming in on your left!"_ Rex warned them, from his vantage point out in the shuttle.

Kallus gripped the trigger, firing once, twice, trying for precise shots that would clip a wing or snip through the canopy.

His unfamiliarity with the turret made the shots fly wide, missing the TIE by a frustrating margin.

The Imperial ship came straight on, green blaster bolts spewing for the front of the ship.

Clenching his jaw, Kallus opened up, thumbing the trigger faster now, rapidfire.

A glancing shot finally bounced off the TIE, fizzling and sparking. It broke off its attack, swerving upwards.

"Coming towards you, Zeb!" Kallus called.

 _"I'm on it!"_

-SWR-

Zeb pivoted, swinging the turret around to point at the fleeing TIE. He aimed for the sparking panel Kallus had damaged.

With a burst of fire he scored a hit, shredding one of the wings from the cockpit.

 _BOOM!_

The rest of the TIE exploded into glorious flames.

"Got 'im!" Zeb crowed triumphantly.

 _"Don't rest yet,"_ Kallus told him. _"Here come the others."_

-SWR-

The chatter from the others was background noise in her ear cones. Deflectors were holding up for now but every stray hit took another chunk out of them. Hera's teeth ground together in concentration. She didn't even hear the whoops of triumph as the other two TIEs were made short work of by Kallus and Zeb's teamwork.

 _"Hera!"_ Rex's voice, shrill with alarm, cut through her concentration. _"Large ship on my sensors, dead ahead! They're moving to cut us off!"_

"Not for long," Hera growled, leaning back in her seat. "Coordinates set, I'm making the jump!"

 _"Roger. On your tail, Phoenix Leader,"_ Rex responded.

Hera grabbed the lever, exhaling slowly as she pulled it. The stars began to smear into streaks. She smiled faintly as hyperspace began to fill the view from every window.

Without warning, the ship pitched violently.

"What—?"

Their forward acceleration was yanked back hard, as if some unseen force had latched onto the _Ghost_. Hyperspace exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Hera gasped, grabbing onto the console and her arm rests, anything she could grab to keep from being flung out of her seat.

-SWR-

Leslynn's eyes widened and she quickly pulled her tool out of the incision, gripping both rails of the cot, joints locking and freezing in place as the floor buckled beneath them.

Ezra flinched. Kanan leaned over him, throwing an arm across his padawan's chest to shield them both.

-SWR-

The horrible dizzying swerve had stopped, and now they just seemed to be drifting, listless.

Kallus sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head where he'd smacked it against the seat. He leaned forward, straining out the window for a glimpse of what had hit them.

Hyperspace was gone. The stars were tiny white pinpoints.

Hanging in the viewport in front of them was a sleek gray shape. An Imperial cruiser.

The second Interdictor.

His throat clenched up.

"No!" Kallus cried, his nails making dents on the handlebars.

-SWR-

Admiral Konstantine smiled in satisfaction

"Ready tractor beam," he ordered.

"At once, sir," the technician responded.

There was a palpable excitement on the bridge as Konstantine turned forward.

* * *

(A/N)- *cackling continues*

Chapter notes!

1\. The story behind how Hera et. all escaped Atollon will be discussed in the next chapter, an unfortunate but necessary side effect of having to split the chapter.

2\. The _Ghost_ does not escape this version of events quite as undinged, to compensate for us not losing as many ships this round. So yeah, the _Ghost_ is sort of missing its starboard airlock. Kanan's not going to let Hera live it down. (Once she actually has to tell him, that is.)

3\. You all know it was totally Zeb who pushed for the mission to retrieve Kallus, you _all_ know it. So of course I needed a scene where he agonizes over it because of how badly it got screwed up. I love the big guy, sue me.

Cliffhanger to be resolved in the next chapter! You may wail at me in frustration in the reviews now. :)


	6. Clash

(A/N)- *peeks in* We still here?

Hello dear readers, I've brought the penultimate chapter and the conclusion to the long-expected final showdown. I do hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Ho hum, here's me still not owning Star Wars because Disney bought it.

* * *

 **Clash**

Hera's eyes burned at the Interdictor, sitting there and mocking her. Her lekku curled with angry tension.

The Imperial cruiser hailed the _Ghost_ , Admiral Konstantine's voice coming in, sounding smug and imminently pleased with himself.

 _"Surrender, rebels,"_ he told them. _"There is no escape."_

She could almost picture the slimy smirk on his face.

Straightening, she pressed a few buttons on the dashboard, her hands taking up the steering yoke again, her mind running calculations and trajectories and her eyes shifting downwards towards the debris field and narrowing firmly.

"All I have to do is outrun you," she bit back at Konstantine, cutting off the connection. "Rex! Follow me!" she yelled.

With a firm yank back on the yoke, the _Ghost_ dropped, plummeting through space as Hera took the freighter into a sharp nosedive straight into the midst of the debris.

-SWR-

"Oh boy..." Rex sighed, pulling back on the steering column and following Hera into the danger zone. "AP, I could use a copilot!" he called towards the back.

The droid rush-shuffled out to take up his place in the copilot chair. "I realize our options for evading capture are limited," he drawled, "but I find this course of action... exceedingly unwise."

"Crunch the numbers later!" Rex told him, taking the shuttle in a hard swerve to avoid a large chunk of rock. "Just help me navigate this minefield!"

-SWR-

Konstantine observed the smaller vessels dive with an unhappy frown, watching the two tiny blips disappear among the asteroids and broken ice and metal.

"Defiant to the end," he said under his breath. Speaking up, he ordered, "Lay in a pursuit course. And send more squadrons to corral them."

Officers rushed to carry out his orders and the bridge bustled as the Interdictor slowly turned.

-SWR-

"Looks like we're gonna have more company!" Zeb warned, spotting the two moving clusters weaving in towards them.

Almost immediately after, a hailstorm of green laser bolts came streaking after them, glancing off the deflectors and making the _Ghost_ shudder.

The TIEs came in at full speed, rapidly gaining on them. Zeb swung the turret around and picked off a couple in the center of the formation; the rest broke ranks to zoom around and flank them from both sides.

Both groups opened up, peppering the _Ghost_ with attacks. The freighter was bounced like a jackhammer for a few seconds before Hera took a hard bank around a jagged piece of floating metal, forcing one flank of their pursuers to break off.

 _"There's too many of them!"_ Kallus cried, sounding panicked.

 _"Just shoot as many as you can!"_ Hera snapped, taking the ship deeper into the debris field.

Zeb watched a tight cluster of space junk rapidly growing larger.

Gulping, he reached for the seat restraints to strap himself in.

-SWR-

Kanan and Ezra weren't moving. Weren't responding to anything that was happening outside the ship, really. Their faces were tranquil. Breathing steady.

Leslynn envied their calm, almost resenting it, as the ship shuddered and shook, forcing her to once again freeze in place, lest her tools catch on something they weren't supposed to, cause her patient more harm.

Her breaths were tight, shoulders agitated. The shaking stopped only for a moment.

Then the sound of TIEs firing outside came in through the hull, terrifyingly loud.

The ship rattled again and Leslynn squeaked as her clamps almost pinched down on a blood vessel.

She shuddered at the close call.

"Would really prefer not to do this in the middle of a battle zone!" she cried, her nerves ready to fail her.

"Calm down," Kanan spoke up. His voice had a soft, authoritative ring. Not opening his eyes, he reached for her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Concentrate."

The words seemed to have an immediate soothing effect. Leslynn breathed in slowly through her mouth, feeling the tension leaving her arms and her vision growing... clearer.

It was like a bubble of warmth, slowly enveloping her. She felt it around the two Jedi too, surrounding them, moving in and out with the sound of their breathing.

The firefight outside faded from thought. She could still hear it, her ears still registered the sound of screeching TIE engines, the moans of the hull as Hera took it careening through the debris field, but... it didn't seem to reach her anymore.

"Ezra," she heard Kanan say. "Help her. Show her where the tracker is."

A tentative nudge came, a hesitant probing in her mind.

Leslynn relaxed her guard and felt the nudge moving down her arms, guiding them, gently pulling them towards the incision.

Her hands rooted around, feeling for metal in the cavity of flesh.

She wasn't worried. She would find it.

The certainty gave her peace as she gently pushed Ezra's skin aside.

-SWR-

Chopper's dome jerked back and forth as he watched the doctor work, an array of confusing data clogging up his sensors.

The phenomenon, classified in his systems under the filename "Weird Jedi Mojo", seemed to be happening all around the room, bouncing off the corners, and making him distinctly uneasy. If he'd been an organic, he was faintly certain his stomach would be suffering a nausea effect.

...It seemed to be working though, whatever it was, so the droid just gave an anxious warble and rolled back a few feet from the cot.

-SWR-

Hera put all her piloting skills to use as she navigated the debris field, swerving around asteroids, diving and ducking under loose pieces of broken ships. The deeper she pushed them into the field, the denser the debris became, until it was pinging off the windshields at regular intervals.

The TIEs kept pace. She lost at least one to a collision with the remains of a sensor array—at least she thought so, spying the explosion out of the corner of her eye.

There was one buzzing right by her ear. Hera paid quick glances at it as it screamed by the port side of the _Ghost_ , so close she could look across and see the pilot through the cockpit window.

He was trying to block her path, Hera realized. Prevent her from moving that way. Steer her towards the right, towards a thinning of the field.

Where Konstantine and the Interdictor waited.

Hands tightening on the handles, Hera wrenched the yoke to the left and the _Ghost_ followed, ramming the TIE.

She smashed it right into the side of an asteroid, splintering it into pieces.

It was a reckless move, and Hera had to quickly pull back to avoid the same asteroid. But now there was an opening to move, and Hera took it, vaulting over a trail of ice particles and dropping, dizzyingly, into a new section of the field.

-SWR-

Nothing disturbed the bubble of calm surrounding Ezra and the others. They breathed in tandem. In, out, in, out. The strange warmth drifted around them, a hovering presence in her mind, tingling on her skin.

It was such an odd feeling, Leslynn thought, yet she didn't feel afraid.

The ship vibrated, jangling the tools on her tray, rattling them, and she paused, then resumed working once the vibrations subsided.

Ezra's patient guidance moved her hands, almost as though he were holding her wrists, physically leading her to where she needed to go.

Leslynn set aside one tool and carefully slid her clamps into the incision.

Almost had it.

-SWR-

Someone _had_ to invent a more maneuverable transport shuttle, Rex decided, as the top fin clipped yet another piece of space rock, this time breaking off a chunk of the edge.

"One thing's for certain," he commented to himself. "We're not gonna be able to use this shuttle for stealth missions again."

One TIE fighter dogged his wake, zipping in and out to blast at his engines. Rex kept the shuttle just out of reach, banking, climbing, and accelerating as much as the small craft would allow him.

He kept close to the _Ghost_ , following in her path so as not to be separated. Most of the TIEs were focused on her; Rex had a near-perfect view of every swoop and blaster strike.

"On your right," AP warned, in a calm deadpan Rex was finding infuriating.

Rex banked the shuttle to avoid a hot blaster spray.

He came up, leveling off before leapfrogging over a large chunk of broken hull.

The wingtips screeched, throwing sparks, as they scraped the old metal.

AP-5 inclined his head, beginning to raise a hand.

"Might I suggest—?"

 _"Not now, AP!"_ Rex snapped, taking the shuttle through a narrow gap between two boulders.

-SWR-

The turret fired away under Zeb's skillful hands, turning another fighter into spacedust. That left four still on them, plus one or two tracking the shuttle; Zeb couldn't quite tell at a glance.

A shadow fell across them.

Zeb's head jerked up, worried he'd see the underbelly of the Interdictor, but no, it was just another asteroid. A very big, very bulky, very solid-looking asteroid.

That Hera was taking them straight for. At full speed.

"Uh..." Zeb's eyes slowly widened and widened as the asteroid loomed large before them. "Hera?"

There was no reply from their pilot.

Zeb glanced nervously back at the TIE fighters, who were peeling off, breaking away. The giant spacerock drew closer and now Zeb could see what Hera was aiming for: a jagged, very narrow-looking tunnel that bore through one side.

The pitch-black gap rushed towards them as if to swallow them up.

"Heraaaaaa..." Zeb called, pressing into the back of his seat.

The tunnel enveloped them and Zeb ducked and flung his hands up, giving a rather shrill and undignified scream.

Rock scraped the hull. The glass dome of the turret bounced once against the roof and then they were out, hurtling into the clear.

Zeb uncovered his head, the smell of singed metal in his nose, ears still ringing from the ghastly squeal.

 _"You all right up there, Zeb?"_ Hera asked him.

He slowly uncurled his body, hands finding the yoke. "I'm fine," he relayed, voice shaking just a fraction. He looked out the turret at the fresh score marks on the _Ghost_ 's hull. "Can't say the same for the paint job though," he quipped.

Oh and there was a hairline fracture in the glass dome too. That was nice.

Hera gave a soft groan over the line.

 _"Ugh, Sabine's gonna throw a fit,"_ she muttered.

 _"Head's up!"_ Kallus warned them. _"They're dropping in from our six!"_

-SWR-

There was a soft metallic _tink!_ as her clamps pinched down. Exhaling steadily, Leslynn wiggled her tool back and forth, gently easing her catch out of the intestinal crevice it had been carefully tucked inside.

With a slow withdraw of her hand, she lifted it free. It came out with a faint squelch, gleaming faintly in the dim yellow light of the room.

"There," Leslynn breathed.

As if a spell had been removed, she flung the tracker away with a sharp throw of her wrist, dropping her clamp on the cot and grabbing up her surgical thread at once, wasting no time. Her hands trembled and shook slightly as she threaded the needle.

Chopper zipped in, tilting his barrel torso forward to snatch up the bloody tracking device. His wheels squeaked as he about-faced, blazing out of the room.

The droid beelined for the port airlock, chucking the tracking device inside and slamming the panel with his manipulator to seal the door and flush the tracker into space. He watched it sail out into the starry void and gave a huff and a nod of satisfaction.

Wheeling around, he chirped a cheerful tune as he headed back inside.

It became a squawk as a sudden lurch of the ship sent him careening face-first into a wall.

-SWR-

The TIE fighters swerved around the large asteroid, using its gravity to slingshot, accelerating, propelling them towards the _Ghost_ , which quickly lost the lead it had on them.

They converged in formation, then broke apart once again, maneuvering around shots from the turret and taking up places around the freighter, moving in tight, crowding her.

Tightening the net.

-SWR-

The Interdictor crept around the fringes of the debris field like a Loth-wolf circling the bushes. Watching. Waiting. Tracking its prey.

It wouldn't be long now. Sooner or later the TIEs would flush the Rebels out.

Konstantine could practically _taste_ his victory, as his eyes watched the distant movement of the ships.

-SWR-

A TIE fighter poked her with shots from its blasters, causing Hera to swing the _Ghost_ right to avoid them. But there was a second enemy right in her path and he too peppered her ship with blaster bolts, forcing her back left again.

Shields were almost gone. She'd pulled as much reserve energy from non-essential systems as she could—it was now _quite_ chilly in the cockpit—but it wasn't enough.

She dropped, hoping to shake the TIEs flanking her, her stomach dropping out through her feet. The TIEs followed, keeping pace. She leveled and jumped over and around obstacles, accelerating, cranking hard back and almost grinding against an asteroid as she slingshot around it.

They were on her like buzzing gnats, needling at her shields, picking and picking at them little by little.

 _"Getting a little crowded up here,"_ came Zeb over the ship's comms.

Hera's jaw pinched. "They're boxing us in," she said, eyes straying to the scopes and seeing that they were inching farther and farther from the center of the cluster, moving towards the thinner edges.

They were being _steered._

 _I am_ _ **not**_ _letting them win,_ she determined.

They'd already lost so much today. They _wouldn't_ lose any more.

And there was no way in _hell_ she was letting the Empire get its hands on Ezra again.

"Kallus!" she called into the comm. "Can you clear those two annoyances out of my way?"

-SWR-

Inside the bubble right below her, Kallus swiveled the gun as far to the side as it would go, straining.

"I don't have a shot!" he said in frustration.

 _"Don't worry,"_ Hera told him. _"You'll get one."_

There was that tone of hers again, the one that sent ominous tingles through his spine and into his fingers.

"Oh, I'm not going to like this..." he groaned.

The _Ghost_ decelerated, breaking hard.

Kallus was squashed against the back of his seat, the abrupt motion squeezing the air out of him. Somewhere in the ship he heard an indignant squeal from Chopper, and several crashes and bangs.

The TIE fighters shot past on either side of them.

Dazed, Kallus collected his wits, focusing his sights carefully.

There was a specific joint he could hit that would uncouple the wing, and then if its trajectory was absolutely perfect...

He fired two bursts and got lucky. The wing of the first TIE broke off, sailed through the cockpit of the other, slicing through the glass. Both burst into flaming pieces.

They were still pursued from behind but now Hera had room to maneuver and she seized it, gunning the sublights and almost tossing Kallus from his seat.

She was a little too eager. From the corner of his sight Kallus caught a glimpse of spinning pock-marked rock.

"Watch out!"

-SWR-

The flying asteroid chunks reared up in front of them.

Hera gave a sharp gasp, adrenaline jolting up through her like a shot of cold ice. She yanked back on the yoke, but too late, she couldn't avoid it.

The debris collided with the ship, hitting the deflectors and then the hull itself like a sledgehammer. Hera was tossed forward against the steering column, slamming her head on the console. The pain that exploded in her forehead couldn't compare to the panic exploding in her heart as speeder-size boulders punched against her ship, bouncing it roughly, triggering alarms, sounding like awful thunder pounding against them.

As sudden as the pummeling had come, it stopped. Hera lifted her head, a breath escaping her as, despite everything, a wave of relief that they were still alive shuddered through her.

Rubbing her head, she picked herself up and started taking stock, eyes flicking from one flashing indicator to another.

The shields were gone. Of course.

 _"Everyone all right?"_ came Kallus's voice.

 _"Better than that TIE,"_ commented Zeb, who'd witnessed a chunk of rock ricochet off the _Ghost_ and obliterate it.

The last one was still on them, and renewed its attack eagerly, diving in like a predator hawk upon its wounded prey.

Hera moved to flee, reaching up to flick a few switches and attempt what she could on her end to minimize the damage. Even from here she could hear a worrying low hiss.

"We're venting atmosphere!" she yelled.

-SWR-

"I'll get it!" Kallus volunteered at once, unbuckling and springing out of his seat.

He flung himself up the ladder to the cockpit, sprinted down the narrow hallway, following the sound of the escaping air.

"Take the nose gun!" he ordered Chopper, who was rolling the other direction past him.

 _"WUH?"_ said Chopper, seemingly startled by the command.

The mechanical hiss grew louder and louder as Kallus tracked down its source. Kanan glanced up briefly at the sound of his disturbance as he blew across the room, stepping up on the bottom rung of the ladder and some loose crates to reach it.

He tore the hem from his sleeve and hastily stuffed it into the crack. The loud hiss slowly squealed into silence. Not the best repair, but it would do.

Kallus stepped down, pausing for just a moment to regain his breath. The ship banked under his feet as Hera took a swerve. Leslynn's tray gently bumped against the cot. Kallus looked over at her. She seemed to be just finishing up her stitches.

"How is he?" the agent asked.

"Ask him yourself," Kanan piped up, with a hint of pride. He squeezed his apprentice's hand. "You did great, kid," Kallus heard him whisper.

Ezra's face was still pale, but he seemed a little more coherent now. "Wasn't... so bad..." he breathed softly.

 _"Hera!"_ It was Rex again, his voice shrill. _"I'm hit! Lousy Imps scored one off my starboard! Right engine is shot, I can't stay with you. I'll have to clear the field!"_

 _"You go out there you'll get caught!"_ Hera pointed out sharply. _"Stay put, I'll swing around,"_ she ordered.

The _Ghost_ turned, but sluggishly, with none of her usual speed and grace. Kallus frowned. They'd never reach Rex in time to make a difference, if this was all the freighter could pull.

"There's only two TIEs left," he considered under his breath. "But that's plenty enough. We need another ship on the field."

He lit upon an idea and glanced up the ladder.

"This leads up to the _Ghost_ 's small shuttlecraft doesn't it?" he asked Kanan.

"The _Phantom II_?" said Kanan, confused. After a pause he stiffened and said, "Don't even _think_ about—"

Swift steps up the ladder were followed by a hissing airlock door.

Kanan's shoulders slumped. "Aaaand he's already gone, isn't he?"

"Yep," Leslynn confirmed with chagrin.

-SWR-

The small shuttle was remarkably intact, given the battered condition of its host mother.

Kallus took only a moment or two to familiarize himself with the controls and then launched, immediately startling and confusing the TIE on their tail. Kallus picked it off while it was still pinwheeling to evade him, and then made a beeline for Rex and the shuttle.

He had fallen quite far behind, and was much closer to the fringes of the field, where the debris was less concentrated, than the _Ghost_.

Kallus paid a nervous glance up towards the hanging wedge form of the Interdictor, waiting in the distance, before booking it for the dogfight around the shuttle.

The fighter was too focused on its quarry, on disabling the shuttle's other engine, to defend against the sudden burst of lasers that the _Phantom II_ blasted at him.

 _BOOM!_

The last TIE pursuer was eliminated.

Rex breathed an audible sigh of relief over the comms. _"Thanks,"_ he said.

-SWR-

"Sir, the rebels just destroyed the last TIE fighter," the aide reported, looking up from his scopes.

Konstantine frowned, brows dark over his eyes. This should have been one of the easiest catches of his career. But as usual the _Ghost_ and her crew were irritatingly slippery.

 _I will_ _ **not**_ _give up the glory of this capture,_ he thought furiously.

"Should I order another squadron to launch?" asked his aide hesitantly, reading his superior's foul mood.

"No," Konstantine said. "Take us in. If they won't be forced out to us, we will go in and root them out ourselves."

The underling nodded. "All ahead full!" he called out. "Heading three point six!"

-SWR-

She had managed to get a few alarms to shut off. The _Ghost_ was still battered, bruised, leaking coolant and defenseless, but at least now it wasn't in danger of exploding outright. The collision hadn't crippled them, just made navigating the debris field very, very delicate. Rex had just told her the shuttle was in much the same condition.

So the only one who had a fully functioning ship currently was Kallus, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. Twinges of warning still pinged around her heart regarding the former ISB agent. She didn't like having him out of her sight.

"All right Kallus, swing around and bring the _Phantom II_ —" she said, starting to call him back, then her eyes fell across the sensor display.

A large blip was moving towards them.

"Oh _kriff!_ "

Throwing caution to the wind Hera gripped the yoke and pushed forward, climbing swiftly.

"Rex! Move it!"

 _"Move where?!"_ he yelled, even as the shuttle picked up after her.

"We're just gonna have to book it to clear space and hope we're far enough out of range!" she told him, swerving around an icicle.

 _"They're coming in full speed; we'll never outrun them!"_ Kallus spoke up in protest.

"I'm willing to hear ideas!" Hera bit back with annoyance.

 _"We can't evade them forever. We're going to have to attack the Interdictor directly and disable the gravity wells,"_ Kallus said, calculating.

"Ah, tried that, didn't work out so well," Hera told him, leaning the _Ghost_ around a spinning asteroid.

 _"Is that the reason why the starboard airlock's missing?"_ Rex asked.

There was a fumbling sound on the open line as someone seemed to pick up a loose comlink.

 _"Wait, we're missing an airlock?"_ came Kanan's voice, very confused.

"Never mind that!" Hera snapped.

 _"Well, how_ _ **did**_ _you escape the other Interdictor then?"_ Kallus pressed, sounding frustrated.

"Sato—" Hera blurted.

A sudden swell of emotion clogged her throat, blocking her words. Hera had to stop and compose herself, speaking with a strained voice.

"...Commander Sato flew the carrier into the center of the Imperial formation and rammed it," she managed finally. "He sacrificed himself so that the last of us could get away."

-SWR-

Hera's words reverberated like a shockwave over the open line. Down in the living area Ezra looked stricken, and Leslynn bowed her head sadly as she put her tools away.

-SWR-

Kallus's hands were slack on the yoke. His expression was blank, a numbness within him.

He was jolted back to himself by a hit from behind that rocked the shuttle.

Kallus shook his head, blasting forward and accelerating.

"They're in firing range!" he shouted.

 _"Yeah and they're gonna be in tractor beam range soon,"_ snarked Rex grimly. _"Book it!"_

-SWR-

The _Ghost_ sped towards the end of the debris field, fleeing with all speed from the surprisingly fast Imperial cruiser. The two smaller ships followed and flanked her, drawing fire off her tail, protecting her rearguard.

The Interdictor shot at them almost lazily, closing the distance, plowing through the field in hot pursuit. Debris bounced harmlessly off its shields as it dove in after them.

The distance between the ships was rapidly diminishing.

-SWR-

"C'mon... please..." Hera whispered under her breath, eyes fixed on clear space, piloting robotic, automatic, instinctive. A whine through the ship and an insistent red flash on her console warned that the engines were in danger of overheating. The proximity sensor trilled unceasingly in a rapid stream of beeps, sounding the approach of the Interdictor.

She couldn't pay attention to it now.

"C'mon old girl... just once more..." she pleaded.

-SWR-

The Imperial shuttle pitched from a hit. Rex's lungs expelled all his air from the shock and he hissed, drawing it back in quickly. He craned his head over his shoulder, glimpsing the looming Imperial ship, and his stomach began to fill with dread.

-SWR-

"We're in range, sir," reported an officer.

"Excellent," Konstantine smiled in victory. "Lock on to the _Ghost_."

-SWR-

The whine of the engines was almost deafening. Kanan couldn't hear the frantic chatter over the comms.

He barely heard it when Ezra gave a breathy fearful sound like a hopeless sob. But he sensed the sudden rise of despair through the bond and was immediately alerted.

"Ezra?"

His hands found the boy's form. Ezra was sitting up, his face in his hands.

"S'my fault... It's my _fault_ ," he whimpered.

"Ezra—" Kanan said, reaching for him.

Ezra gasped and Kanan sensed his head jerk up in shock, his Force senses ringing.

Kanan felt it too, some familiar tingle. What was—?

-SWR-

They weren't going to make it.

Even while Kallus watched, the _Ghost_ shuddered, slowed, started dragging backward.

 _"No!"_ Hera screamed in frustration.

He didn't even stop to think, just acted on impulse, turning the _Phantom II_ around with a hard swing.

"I'm making a run on the Interdictor," he determined. "Rex!"

 _"Right behind you,"_ Rex copied, peeling away and rounding on their pursuer as well.

"Take out the tractor beam, I'll try to disable the gravity wells."

 _"Your cannons aren't powerful enough!"_ Hera protested. _"You'll never break through the shield!"_

It _had_ occurred to him. But he had no choice but to try.

If he had to repeat Sato's sacrifice, so be it.

"I know, I'll... think of something," he deflected weakly.

 _"KALLUS IF YOU CRASH THE PHANTOM II INTO THAT SHIP I_ _ **SWEAR**_ _I'LL_ — _"_

He ignored her, his thumbs hovering over the trigger.

Focusing in, narrowing the distance...

 _BOOM!_

Kallus blinked. His thumbs froze as he regarded the blossoming fireball that had appeared atop the face of the cruiser.

That hadn't been his shot...

-SWR-

"What happened?!" Konstantine demanded over the sound of the alarm, as technicians ran around frantically.

"Sir! We sustained a hit to aft gravity generator number four!"

"From _where?!"_ he bellowed.

-SWR-

"Who hit the Interdictor?" Kallus asked in confusion.

Rex sounded just as lost as he was. _"Wasn't me."_

 _"Captain,"_ AP-5 interjected. _"I'm picking up an anomaly on sensors. There appears to be another ship."_

"What?" Kallus exclaimed, leaning forward and peering out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of it.

-SWR-

Rex, meanwhile, ducked his head towards his screens. "I've got more dropping out of hyperspace!" he relayed in amazement.

 _"Imperial reinforcements?"_ asked Zeb.

The old clone squinted at the data coming in. "No..."

His eyes widened and he went almost slack in his seat.

"They're Mandalorian," he breathed.

-SWR-

Vindication rang through the Force, as the presence he'd sensed earlier resonated with a vibrancy and color he knew all too well.

Ezra's insides leapt, and as he sagged back into the cot with relief he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"Sabine."

-SWR-

The fighter swooped so easily at her touch and her speed was exhilarating. Sabine turned the craft, barreling past the prow of the Interdictor until she could see the _Ghost_ in her viewport, spy the purple form of Zeb in the top turret.

 _"I know that obnoxious style of paint job!"_ she heard him crowing.

She decided to let the jab at her gold, red, and magenta emblazoned craft slide, and let herself smile broadly.

"Sorry I'm late, Hera," she said, bringing her fighter to a slow hover. She checked back over her shoulder at the other Mandalorian ships, buzzing and stinging the Interdictor as soon as they dropped from hyperspace. "It took a while to scramble enough fighters."

 _"I didn't even tell you where we were going,"_ Hera said, sounding impressed.

"Ah, I just took a look along the usual hyperspace lanes between Lothal and Atollon and made an educated guess," Sabine dismissed modestly, shrugging her shoulders. She thumbed the thrusters, angling up and pivoting sharply. "Sit tight, we'll have you loose in a moment."

Her blasters fired up, sending streams of hot yellow plasma at the Imperial cruiser. Small explosions popped all along her firepath.

The other fighters zoomed around, banking to turn and face the Interdictor head on. Sabine pulled her ship to the head of them.

"All right boys, form up!" she ordered. "We're going in and we're going in hard!"

The engine growled louder and louder behind her as she built up power.

Smashing the throttle forward, she led the final charge.

-SWR-

The whole bridge rocked as the first barrage hit.

The Fang fighters dove in again and again, strafing the top of the cruiser, faster than the anti-aircraft cannons could keep up with them.

There were more alarms blaring now, and a palpable sense of panic ringing around the room.

Konstantine was frozen in place, staring around in disbelief.

Technicians were abandoning their posts, fleeing the bridge. Sparks popped from panels. The screen trained on the gravity wells showed the shield around it suffering hit after hit, turning from blue to bright white and splintering, wide cracks splitting across it.

"No..." Konstantine said.

This couldn't be happening. This was supposed to be _his_ victory, _his_ triumph!

The brightly-colored fighter in the lead dropped a torpedo load. They sailed like twin comets, straight and true, pounding into the gravity wells.

The white flared into fire, ripping through the dome of a gravity well.

"No!" Konstantine cried.

But the fire was already spreading through the ship, the unstable gravity generators collapsing and pulling metal and durasteel inwards.

The floor buckled underneath his feet and the last thing he knew was the searing heat rushing towards him.

-SWR-

The Fang fighters zipped away, as the Interdictor collapsed in on itself before exploding in a burst of energy, flinging pieces in all directions.

Sabine sailed away from the flying wreckage, looking forward in time to see the _Phantom II_ docking back with the _Ghost._

"You're all clear!" she yelled.

-SWR-

Hera let herself smile as the _Phantom II_ locked in place and burning bits of their pursuer began to fly past her window. The fireball was still expanding, dissipating slowly as it tickled their burners.

Coordinates set. She reached for the lever.

Exhilaration filled her as stars streaked past and hyperspace opened up to welcome them home, leaving the fiery remains of the Interdictor far behind.

* * *

(A/N)- As always, chapter notes!

1\. Kanan and Ezra unlocked Battle Meditation! Or a rudimentary form of it anyway. Either way, it freaks Chopper out.

2\. The _Ghost_ continues to take a pummeling because I wanted to run our heroes absolutely _ragged_ before I let them off.

3\. And this chapter we see the diverging narrative start to wind back towards its original canon course. Even though the timescale got moved up severely (and the repercussions of that aren't going to be small), and the Battle of Atollon was much shorter, with fewer participants, I still think at some point Sato would have taken the exact same kind of action in order to protect his people. And since overloading the gravity wells exploded the second Interdictor in canon (the one Ezra, Sabine and the Mandalorians took down), I couldn't spare Konstantine either. So both of them still bite it in this AU.

4\. Kallus gets his first taste of Hera's Mom Voice. XD

5\. Sabine's here! She, likewise, I'd argue, would make much the same choice as she did in canon, presented with her Spacefamily being in imminent danger. (Also the sap in me couldn't resist having a little moment where Ezra got heart-eyes about her, sue me.)

There's going to be just one more chapter to tie some things up, and then this little minific-that-turned-into-a-bigger-fic will be finished. I've enjoyed this ride with you dear readers, and I hope you were as entertained as I was.


	7. Aftermath

(A/N)- HOW 'BOUT THEM SEASON FOUR TRAILERS, EH?

Oh gosh I'm so nervous. I'm not ready for my babies to grow up and make important life-changing decisions.

PLEASE BE KIND TO MY CHILDREN, FILONI.

In any case, here is the final chapter! I hope all of you have had as much fun on this ride as I have. (Now maybe I can actually focus on my other work for a change, lol.)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still not owning Rebels here. Darn.

* * *

 **Aftermath**

"Captain Kallus! Sir!"

Kallus turned to see a fidgety pink-skinned Theelin. "Miss Terez," he acknowledged with a nod. "What can I do for you?"

Gooti dropped her eyes, tapping her fingers together. "Um, I don't want to be a bother..." She looked back up anxiously. "Have you seen Mart anywhere?"

Sato's nephew. The sullen teenager had been scarcer than usual—at least according to Hera—since they'd joined back up with the rest of what remained of Phoenix Squadron on Yavin IV.

"I believe he was still down in the hanger," Kallus replied. A little softer he asked, "How is he?"

Gooti sighed heavily. "He's taking it pretty hard. It's not the first time he's watched someone slam into an Imperial ship to protect him."

Kallus put a hand on her shoulder. "You should talk to him." There'd been no one there for him after the death of his squadron, just a court-appointed therapist to ask him a few questions and then pronounce him fit for duty. He still remembered how lonely it felt.

"Mmm," Gooti said. Remembering something, she thumbed down the hallway over her shoulder. "Oh, and Hera said they want you out on the airfield for something," she told him.

"I'll be down in a moment." There was still something he wanted to check on. Or rather, someone.

Gooti stepped back and saluted. "Captain," she said, dismissing herself.

Kallus watched her leave, then blew out a breath, running a hand through his loose bangs.

 _Captain_ Kallus. It still felt weird rolling off people's tongues.

He headed for the medical wing. The hallways passed in a blur, the cool subterranean air light on his skin. He heard voices from inside the room, as he approached.

"And that's when Chopper sprayed him with fire retardant," Ezra relayed, finishing up some story.

 _"No,"_ said Sabine. Her light laughter peeled out, echoing slightly in the long hallway.

"You should've seen it. Fur sticking up everywhere, foam dripping off him..."

Kallus paused in the doorway, looking in and observing quietly. Ezra was sitting up and looked small in the thin cotton hospital clothes they'd found for him, but seemed to be in good spirits. Sabine was seated in a chair next to the bed. She was much calmed from the last time Kallus had seen her, clinging to Ezra with her arms around his neck, berating him angrily, almost hysterically.

She leaned forward on her seat. " _Tell_ me you painted it," she begged Ezra.

"Tried. It wasn't very good." He pinched a corner of the sheets, playing with it idly. "And anyway, I think it got left behind at Atollon. Probably spacedust by now."

"Aw _man!_ " Sabine groaned.

"At least I hope it's spacedust and not on the _Chimaera_. You know Thrawn just has a whole chunk of a wall you painted sitting on display in his office?" Ezra continued.

Sabine made a face. "Okay, that's creepy."

"Right?" Ezra agreed.

They made small talk for another minute or so, and then Sabine glanced up at the chronometer on the wall.

"Take it easy, okay?" she said, reaching over and squeezing his wrist. "I have to go report in, I'll be back later."

Ezra wilted slightly, his face pinching. "You promise?"

"You gonna be bored without me or something?" she teased.

He gestured around at the sparse room. "Not like I have anything else to do."

She smiled and squeezed his arm again. "Get some rest," she told him gently, moving to stand. "And Ezra?" she added.

She leaned in and wrapped him up in her arms. He returned the hug with a contented exhale, feeling her violet hair tickle his neck.

"I'm glad you're safe," Sabine whispered.

A second or two passed and then they let go, and Sabine withdrew with a smile towards the door, nodding briefly at Kallus on her way out.

Ezra's eyes followed her out, then shifted to him, and Kallus straightened before coming into the room.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Ezra shifted on the bed, his gaze dropping quietly. "Sore, mostly," he replied. "Tingles in my arms and legs. Headache. Occasional heart flutters and chest pain." He glanced up. "Dr. Leslynn says there's some nerve damage and burnt tissue on my organs that's going to scar."

Kallus looked Ezra over and made his own assessment as the boy listed his symptoms. The patches of allergy rash had faded to a barely-visible pink. The nastier cuts on his face had been stitched up, the others left to scab. There were a couple red marks under the bandages on his wrists, Kallus knew, from where he'd been pulling on the metal restraints. Kanan had asked him to describe Ezra's condition when they'd had a quiet moment and had been positively furious when he'd gotten to that part. It almost unnerved Kallus how much anger had been in the Jedi's face.

Ezra had regained a lot of color, though, and looked much improved from when Kallus had first peeled him off the interrogation table.

Knowing that not all scars manifested physically, however, Kallus tapped the side of his head and asked, "What about neurologically?"

Ezra stared past him, off into space, his brows pinching between his eyes. "Everything's all just kind of... fuzzy," he said. Flashes came back to him—along with phantom pain—isolated bits and pieces of the incident that were out of order; he couldn't put them into a coherent timeline. There were blank spaces that he couldn't pierce and the edges of his memory blurred around them. He shook his head. "I don't... I don't really remember anything after I talked to you on the light cruiser." He met Kallus's eyes briefly. "Not clearly anyway," he added. "It's all kind of jumbled and mixed up."

Kallus nodded. "That's normal," he assured Ezra. "Some memory loss is expected after the more aggressive interrogation techniques."

Ezra was fidgeting. "Kallus?" he said, his voice anxious. There was a distressingly large blank in his memory after his conversation with Kallus on the light cruiser, and the only thing he could remember with any clarity after that was his initial interrogation in Thrawn's office. According to his own recollection he had seemingly just appeared there, and that in combination with something from the haze of pain and fear that was his torture...

Pryce standing before him, taunting him. _"What loyalty do you owe Fulcrum?"_ she'd said in the interrogation chamber—or had it been in Thrawn's office? _"He sold you out the moment he was able to."_

It had to have been a trick, _had_ to be. But it wasn't so easy to tell what was real and what wasn't anymore. Ezra breathed in slowly.

"You didn't... rat me out, did you?" he asked.

Kallus heard the unspoken plea for reassurance and took no offense. "I didn't," he promised, watching Ezra's shoulders sag in relief. "And..." he added, to get the boy's mind off his jumbled memories, "...you returned the favor. Even under torture."

Ezra snorted. "Only because I was too drugged to think."

"Don't sell yourself short," Kallus told him. "I've seen stronger men than you break after only a few cycles. You resisted, and for that, I am grateful," he said genuinely. "I'm sure many others feel the same."

Ezra didn't look at him for a long moment, staring at the wall, a sober expression on his face.

"...But Thrawn found us anyway," he said quietly.

"I don't think anything could have prevented that," Kallus sighed. "Sooner or later that clash above Atollon was inevitable." The Grand Admiral was too clever by far, too cunning. Every move they made, he turned it against them, like a relentless chessmaster. He was certain Thrawn was already planning around their half-defeat, already envisioning new traps he could set for them. But that wasn't what the boy needed to think about right now. Kallus placed a hand on the railing at the foot of the bed, offering an encouraging smile. "But because you warned us about the tracker we weren't caught unawares. You saved a lot of lives, Ezra," he said. "You might not feel like it right now, but it's true."

Ezra sat and absorbed that, then pushed himself a little straighter on the bed. "Thank you," he said. "And for, you know, getting me out." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Guess I owe you."

"We'll call it even." Kallus glanced about the room. "Do you need anything?" he offered.

"Something to read maybe?" Ezra suggested.

Kallus chuckled. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. "In the meantime, you should take Sabine's advice and get some rest."

"That's all I've _been_ doing!" he whined.

"Because it's all you _need_ to do right now," Kallus said, a slight edge of exasperation creeping into his voice. Teenagers, honestly. Always so restless. "There'll be plenty of work for you to do when you're well, Ezra. Don't rush your recovery," he cautioned.

Ezra held up his hands, shaking his head. "Okay, _wait_." He gave Kallus a weirded-out look. "Since when am I _just_ 'Ezra'?" he asked.

Kallus was taken aback a moment. He hadn't realized he'd been dropping Ezra's last name when talking to him, or about him. He mused on it for a few seconds.

"I suppose... since I pulled you from an Imperial interrogation chamber," he guessed. He took a step back. "I'm sorry, does it make you uncomfortable?"

The boy's face wrinkled like he was still trying to decide that. "It's just... weird," he said.

A slight awkwardness passed through the space between them, before Kallus offered, "If you like, you can call me by _my_ first name."

Ezra narrowed his eyes skeptically at that. "Really? What is it?" he asked.

"Alexsandr."

Ezra stared at him.

"...You're joking, right?"

A bit stiffly, Kallus snipped, "I can assure you, I am not."

"Yeeeeaaah, I think I'm just gonna keep calling you Kallus," said Ezra, shaking his head. He gave the former ISB agent a cheeky grin. "Easier that way."

Kallus huffed. "Perhaps I should continue to refer to you as Padawan Jabba," he replied dryly.

"Hey, you do whatever you want," Ezra told him, holding up his hands placatingly. "You're one of us now."

There was something suddenly very tight in his throat. Kallus swallowed and coughed to clear it.

"Get some rest," he repeated, once he'd regained his composure.

Ezra rolled his eyes, slouching down on the bed in boredom. "Yeah, yeah."

Kallus resisted the urge to snicker again, moving to exit. He left Ezra to his reluctantly quiet recovery and began to navigate his way up to the surface.

-SWR-

The cool temple air gave way to warm humidity, the moisture and sunlight both hitting his face as he stepped through the opening out into the light of a new day.

Kallus breathed deeply, taking in the lush jungle moon and the background buzz and hustle of the base. It was an almost peaceful atmosphere, the pilots and technicians moving at a leisurely pace, droids rolling by in a stately procession.

He was drawn to a huddle of familiar faces gathered around a communications terminal. A sketchy blue hologram was being piped in, and a low monotone voice rang out over the airfield.

 _"_ — _assured that when he is caught, the former Agent Kallus will receive the Empire's harshest death sentence,"_ Kallus caught the recording of Thrawn saying.

Ears pricking up, he slid into place between a stoic Kanan and an amused-looking Zeb, both listening in with their arms folded.

 _"As for the remnants of the Rebel cell known as Phoenix Squadron,"_ Thrawn continued, his red eyes burning with a barely-contained displeasure, _"they will be swiftly tracked down and eliminated."_

Zeb chuckled. "He doesn't sound happy."

"Don't laugh," Hera chided, as she came up to the huddle. "He's already making good on his threat. Two more carriers fell into an Interdictor trap along the Perlemian Trade Route." Her eyes glanced briefly towards Kallus. "Glad you could join us, Kallus," she said curtly.

He tried not to flinch at the tension vibrating around her, the carefully controlled anger emanating from her. She'd been a maelstrom of determination and passion ever since they'd landed, working harder than ever, here one moment, on the other side of the base the next.

She tossed a datapad onto the terminal. "Tanyrn Outpost. What do you know about it?" she demanded.

"That's a high-security Imperial prison," Kallus replied promptly, leaning forward slightly to look at the datapad. "Full of Rebel operatives and sympathizers. Many are being held for interrogation."

"Perfect. Then that's our next target," determined Hera.

"Hold on," Kanan cautioned, unfolding his arms to put up a hand. "Even for us that sounds a little _too_ ambitious."

"What's wrong with that?" Hera's hand flashed out at the empty space where the hologram had been. "You heard what Thrawn said. He thinks we're beaten and scattered. So we prove him wrong."

Was there a polite way to tell his new superior that her plan seemed... unwise? "I think a retaliatory show of defiance is exactly what he's expecting," Kallus eventually decided to say. "Remember, he's been studying your tactics and strategies for months."

"You're not thinking straight," Kanan said, putting much more bluntly the sentiment Kallus had been trying for. Even with the mask covering his face they could see a stern glare from him. "You're letting what happened to Ezra—"

"You're _damn right_ I am!" Hera shouted suddenly. Her outburst startled even her, and she bit her lip, flinching, simmering down.

She released a heavy breath. Her shoulders slumped.

"All right," she admitted. "Maybe we keep Tanyrn Outpost on the backburner for now. But it _is_ going to happen," she insisted. Fire burned in her green eyes. "I want Thrawn to know just how much of a burr in his side Phoenix Squadron can be."

"That, I can respect," Kanan told her, nodding.

"I'm up for annoying the blue bastard," Zeb agreed, punching a fist into his palm eagerly. "Kallus?"

Their enthusiasm and passion was infectious. Kallus let himself smile.

"Let's do it."

"We're going to need more allies then," piped up the voice of General Dodonna, walking up to join them.

"You have someone in mind?" asked Hera.

He nodded, reaching for the projector controls. "Senator Mon Mothma. She's been financing several Rebel cells under the table for some time." He tuned in to a recording from the Holonet news. "And she's just had some very strong words to say about the Emperor."

They leaned in, listening intently as the voice of the senator rang out.

It wasn't long before Kallus found himself rushing to board the _Ghost_ , heading off into deep space, to start the next round of their chess match with Thrawn.

The skirmish above Atollon was over, but the war would continue on.

It was time to get to work.

* * *

(A/N)- One final time, chapter notes!

1\. WHERE THE HELL WAS IRON SQUADRON IN "ZERO HOUR"?! WHERE WERE MY CHILDREN?! I mean I know the fandom hates them but _I needed that angst in my life I needed to see Mart's reaction to his uncle's death okay?_ So I couldn't help putting in a little reference. It just needed to happen, trust me.

2\. AU!Kallus has become remarkably good with kids, how the heck did that happen.

3\. So the accelerated timeline means that Kallus gets to be there for several major Season Three events he wasn't originally part of! I will leave it up to your imaginations how some of those scenarios might play out.

4\. Since I was planning to do a Maul vs. Ezra apprentice fic anyway, that's one of the ones you might get to see.

5\. Mon Mothma is a badass. That is all.

Thank you for following along with me on this journey, dear readers. I appreciate all your feedback.


End file.
